


Recipe for Attraction

by Pegacorn



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dark Brotherhood - Freeform, F/M, Food Sex, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-24 19:44:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3782077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pegacorn/pseuds/Pegacorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gianna thought cooking for the Emperor and meeting the Gourmet was going to be the most important day in her life. When disaster strikes and she finds herself locked up, she finds herself indebted to a mysterious man who hides more than he shares. At least he is easy on the eyes. But should she even be feeling this attracted to a man with such a dark streak?</p><p>Skyrim and all its characters are property of Bethesda</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Gourmet

Gianna used a wooden spoon to bring the simmering liquid to her lips. She blew briefly then tasted the creation she had been slaving over all day. “Needs more salt,” she murmured for the one hundredth time that day. She sprinkled another pile of salt into the base broth and began to stir it again. 

She turned to look around the kitchen in Castle Dour's Emperor Tower. The room was small, dominated by the cook fire and large tables for food preparation. Several storage pantries led away from the main kitchen and Gianna had checked them thoroughly, reviewing all of the ingredients she had available. She had already counted them and recounted them, twice, but she needed everything to be perfect. The Gourmet was coming and she would rather die than disappoint him. 

The Gourmet was a legend in Breton cuisine. He had written the book on the matter, quite literally. The Gourmet's identity was a closely guarded secret all across Tamriel and today she was going to be assisting the Gourmet with the creation of the penultimate recipe from his best selling cookbook: The Potage le Magnifique. 

Gianna woke before dawn to hand craft two broths, one chicken and one beef. When the beef had turned out too salty, she had started over. When cooking for the Emperor, cost wasn't important. The quality of the dish is all that mattered. She had hand picked over the carrots and onions, choosing only the freshest, and then dicing them carefully. The entire kitchen was stocked with any kind of ingredient the Gourmet could wish to add to the dish. The Potage le Magnifique's recipe in the book was incomplete because everyone cooked the potage differently. Gianna was about to find out how the Gourmet prepared the dish. 

During a normal week, cooking for the Emperor of Tamriel would trump anything else in her mind. But the fact that she was to cook with the Gourmet and serve the Emperor made this day the single most important day of her life. Nothing could go wrong. Every time she heard a guard coming or going through the door into the Emperor's Tower she jumped to straighten her chef's hat and ran to stand at attention near the doorway to the kitchen. She was wearing her newest, cleanest white chef's uniform and the tall white hat she had received when she reported for her first job at the Blue Palace. The Gourmet had not given an estimated time of arrival. The Gourmet was so in demand, Emperors would wait on the Gourmet's food.

Gianna found herself guessing about the Gourmet's identity. Was she waiting for a man or a woman? What race was the Gourmet? A Breton? Too predictable. No one would bother keeping it a secret if a Breton were the finest chef in Tamriel. Most of the best chefs were already Bretons themselves anyways. An Imperial? Gianna was an Imperial living in Skyrim but she felt that surely the Gourmet would have a pedigree more exotic than her own. Gianna's best guess was a Wood Elf. 

The base for the Potage le Magnifique was bubbling away and a final taste revealed that it was as close to perfect as Gianna was capable of crafting. She just had to wait until the Gourmet arrived. The sound of the door opening and the guard carefully questioning someone caused Gianna to freeze with the stirring spoon in her hand. She said a quick prayer to Zenithar as she smoothed out her chef's apron and adjusted her tall hat.

Gianna was sweating from nerves and the warmth of the kitchen and she hoped her naturally dark tan skin would hide the flush on her cheeks. She pushed her short black hair behind her ears and tucked any stray hairs into her hat. The Imperial guard entered and ushered in a tall man and then quickly left the two of them alone.

The Gourmet was a tall Nord with an auburn beard and dark brown eyes. An unruly mop of auburn hair was escaping from his tall white chef's hat which sat at a strange angle. It almost seemed out of place on his head. He was wearing a chef's uniform but it seemed too small as though it may burst from his large, muscular frame any second. He was younger than Gianna had expected. She would have guessed he was thirty, only slightly older than herself. 

The Gourmet moved into the area, surveying the kitchen as though he expected some sort of ambush. Gianna wished she had checked over all the ingredients a fourth time. The Gourmet did not look impressed. If anything, he looked suspicious of her. She wiped her sweaty hands on her apron again and cleared her throat. 

“You're a Nord,” she said, and immediately regretted it. The man narrowed his dark brown eyes and studied her for several seconds before cracking a small lopsided grin. 

“What were you expecting?” he asked, his voice deep and lilting with the accent common in Skyrim. 

“Oh, I don't know,” said Gianna, hoping her dark tan complexion would hide her blushing cheeks. “Maybe a Bosmer.”

“A Bosmer? That's interesting,” he said, stepping deeper into the kitchen, looking around with his dark eyes narrowed. “Why not a different race. Maybe, an Orc?”

Gianna gave a ridiculous snorting laugh before she could catch herself and stifle her response. “I doubt the Gourmet would be an Orc. I'm not sure they know much about Breton cuisine. Although, if you had been an Orc it would certainly explain the secrecy. I doubt many people would buy a book about fine dining writing by an Orsimer.”

The Gourmet was smiling at her, which made her blush again. “You have a cute laugh. What was your name?”

Gianna's mouth hung open and she didn't know how to respond to that. “Uhh...Gianna,” she said. “I'm a huge admirer of your work. Did you have to travel far to get here?” She feared the man wouldn't want to answer any of her questions, but this was her once in a lifetime opportunity to chat with her idol. She wasn't going to let it pass without at least attempting a conversation. No matter how nervous she felt.

“I live in Skyrim,” he said, the answer vague. He relaxed against one of the cupboards in the kitchen, watching Gianna as she took back her place stirring the base broth. “Are you from here as well?”

“I have lived here as long as I can remember, though I was born in Cyrodiil. I have been working in Solitude for seven years now. My first real cooking job was at the Blue Palace.”

“Ah, interesting,” he said, staring at her with a disconcerting look. He seemed to notice her discomfort and smiled again. 

“Why so much secrecy surrounding your identity?” she asked, surprised at her own audacity. The man gave a short exhale of laughter, shrugging his shoulders as the only answer. “I feel that would get tiring. Always being in hiding when you really just want people to know who you are.”

“Why would I want people to know who I am?” he asked.

“Because you're the Gourmet, and you are the best chef in Tamriel. Surely it would be easier to be recognized and treated according to your station,” said Gianna, resuming her stirring of the steaming broth.

“When people recognize you, they have expectations. I prefer to keep my true identity hidden. Although I must admit, it would be nice to be able to have some people in my life that knew the real me and accepted me without question.”

The Gourmet sounded so sad when he spoke about hiding himself. Gianna could feel her heart swelling for the man. The tortured genius forced to live in the shadows to avoid people coming and demanding things from him all the time. 

“Well, maybe when we are finished here, you might want to have dinner with me? I will cook, you don't have to. You can just talk and I promise to listen and well, have no expectations.”

Those dark eyes were locked with hers, as though the Gourmet were considering something very important. Gianna could feel his gaze as though he were measuring her worth. The seconds passed and she began to feel extremely uncomfortable and regretted having asked such a forward question. She quickly changed the subject back to the professional matter at hand. 

“Well, um, I have already begun the Potage le Magnifique. The Emperor has requested it personally. I know that everyone makes it differently so I am,” she took a deep breath, forcing herself to slow down from talking too quickly, “deeply honored to find out how the Gourmet makes the Potage.”

The tall Nord gave a humorless chuckle. He walked over to a tray of ingredients and picked up a small dish of fire salt Gianna had made sure was on hand just in case. She watched as he pocketed the valuable ingredient, but he was the Gourmet and she didn't dare voice any dissent. Perhaps he was just very low on the expensive ingredient. Castle Dour could afford to lose one tiny dish of fire salt. 

“The base broth is simmering right here,” she said, indicating the only pot she was stirring, bubbling away next to a waist high stack of dirty spoons she'd used to taste it until she achieved the perfect flavor. “So, Gourmet, Sir, what should I add next?”

The Gourmet stopped in his small walk around the room and stared at all the ingredients. Gianna was poised, ready to act on his instructions, but the seconds crept by and there was still no answer. “Is this a test?” she finally said, voice cracking from the nerves. “You want to know what I would add?”

“What would you add?” the man asked, wearing a mysterious smile that made Gianna's nerves flutter. 

“Oh, ah, I suppose this is a good time to add some frost salts, to balance the salt in the broth and...”

“Add a sweet roll,” said the Gourmet, glancing at a table of pastries.

“A....sweet roll?” she asked, turning to look at the tray of sweets she had baked that morning to act as dessert for the Emperor's luncheon. “Well, how....decadent?” she managed. She picked up one of the rolls and held it over the simmering pot. She looked at the Gourmet who made a dismissive motion with his hand.

“Get on with it. I said a sweet roll,” said the Nord.

“Yes sir, Mister Gourmet,” she said, dropping the roll into the pot. The hot liquid quickly melted the glazed sweet and as she stirred it dissolved into the pot giving it a sugary sheen. She used a clean spoon to get a taste and found that it was actually...good. She blushed and cursed herself silently for having doubted a master like the Gourmet.

She looked up as she stirred the pot and saw the Gourmet was looking over the pastries she hadn't chosen for the potage. He picked up one of her cheese and apple tarts and gave a quick bite. A loud noise of pleasure rose from the man that made Gianna blush again and look away.

“Who made this masterpiece,” gushed the Gourmet. It sounded strange to hear the large Nord fawning over the sweet.

“Oh ah, I did,” she said as he grabbed for another pastry, one of her snowberry muffins, “those are actually for the Emperor's luncheon, Mister Gourmet. Sir.”

It was no use. The Gourmet was already chewing a large bite of the muffin and leaned his head back, moaning again. “This is even better. Did you make all of these?”

“Yes. It's,” she paused, clearing her throat and wishing she could stop blushing, “that is, it's just, the...greatest honor to hear that you like them. The sliced bread there is your own recipe for juniper bread, though the glaze is my own invention.” She couldn't meet the Gourmet's eyes as he devoured the rest of the muffin and picked up a piece of bread. Gianna forced herself to focus on the potage. 

“You have a true gift for baking, Gianna. This food is,” the Gourmet paused to take another bite of the juniper bread, “orgasmic.”

Gianna gave an uncomfortable cough as the man continued to make happy noises as he finished the pastries and licked his fingers clean. 

“And what should we add next, Sir?” she asked, staring at the cooking pot and trying to ignore the large Nord pilfering all of her pastries. The Gourmet liked her cooking. Gianna almost couldn't control her happiness. 

She had prepared all types of meats, vegetables, spices and herbs but if the Gourmet required strange ingredients she may disappoint him when she can't complete the meal. She wished her heart would stop beating so loudly. 

“Vampire dust,” said the man, leaning lazily against one of the counters, still licking his fingers clean. He was smiling at her, and she worried that maybe he was playing some kind of trick on her. Maybe this was not the way to make the Potage at all and he was testing her. 

“Um, vampire dust. We have some in the alchemy cabinet sure. I guess that could add an earthy texture and flavor to the, uh, potage?” The Gourmet's dark eyes were watching her and he smiled. The lopsided grin had a strange affect on her. 

She hadn't expected that the Gourmet would be so young or attractive, even if he was a Nord. He stood taller than her by almost a full hand and his shoulders were broad and muscular under his chef's outfit. She had to pass very close by him to get into the alchemy cupboard and the man stayed still, forcing her to lean over right next to him. When she stood up with the vampire dust, he was giving her a sly grin and she remembered how low cut her chef's outfit was on the bodice. 

“You smell delicious,” he whispered as she stood near him. “Like, sweet rolls and spice bread.”

Blushing, Gianna returned to the pot and dished out three heaping spoonfuls of the vampire dust into the potage. As she stirred it now she could see a strange shimmery film with the dissolved sugar mixing with the dust. “Amazing,” she cooed quietly, but not quiet enough. The Gourmet heard her and gave a soft chuckle to himself.

“You really are,” he said, and laughed when Gianna looked up, green eyes wide with surprise. The Gourmet was flirting with her. “I don't think I have ever met anyone this passionate about cooking before.”

“Surely you have met every passionate chef in Tamriel at this point?” she asked, looking confused at the man. It struck her as strange that the Gourmet would claim she was the most passionate chef he'd met? She dismissed it as an exaggeration.

She hunched over the pot as she stirred before finally daring to look up. “What else, Mister Gourmet?” She kept her tone professional and formal, ignoring the man's attractive figure and the way he was staring at her now. 

“A septim,” he said, smirking.

“Um, a septim? You mean like a coin?” Gianna felt herself start to panic. She hadn't brought any gold with her to work that day. She didn't have a single septim to her name. She started to pat at her pockets, hoping she'd maybe forgotten to empty them from a previous day, but she had no such luck.

The Gourmet laughed at her discomfort. “Do you need to borrow one?”

“Oh, I'm afraid you won't get it back,” she said, seriously.

The Gourmet just laughed again. “You are adorable. No it's fine,” he said, reaching into the pocket of his chef's tunic. It seemed to her he was wearing something more substantial under the usual uniform and he produced a septim and held it out to her. Gianna walked over and held out her hand which he softly pressed a coin into, holding it there longer than necessary until she looked up and met his eyes. He smiled again and gave the smallest wink. 

Gianna turned back toward the pot, forcing herself to ignore the growing feeling in the pit of her stomach. The Gourmet could probably have any chef he wanted. He was famous over all of Tamriel. This was probably his usual method of getting a bed partner. Well, Gianna had had to deal with this type of attitude from her superiors before and she was not going to fall for this ploy. She would remember this day as the day that she fed the Emperor and cooked with the Gourmet. Not as the day that she slept with a famous chef like some common tavern wench. 

The septim dropped in with a clunk. Gianna stirred the pot again. She used a tasting spoon to bring the liquid to her mouth, blew gently, then tasted the potage.

She had made the potage many times in her life, following the Gourmet's recipe and adding her own ingredients. Nothing she had ever made came close to this. The taste was so divine she wanted to cry but instead just gave a throaty moan. She turned to congratulate the Gourmet and jumped when she found he had moved to stand directly beside her. She hadn't even heard him move. 

“There's one more thing,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath ghosting along her ear. He reached into some pocket and drew out another small vial with what appeared to be some type of brown powder inside. He tipped the vial carefully over the pot, dislodging a tiny sprinkle of the substance. He then winked at Gianna again.

“What is that, Sir?” she asked, her voice breathy and light. 

“Now Gianna. Who is the Gourmet here?” he asked, smiling that same smug grin again.

“You are,” she answered, though she realized it had been a rhetorical question. 

“Exactly. The potage is finished. Let us not keep the Emperor waiting,” he said. 

Gianna stirred the pot one final time and reached for another tasting spoon but before she could bring it to her lips the Gourmet swatted it out of her hand and it hit the ground with a clatter. He held her eyes as he shook his head. “Now now, Gianna. This is a potage for an Emperor. Maybe some day I will cook one just for you and then you may taste that finished product. This is for one man alone.”

Gianna raised an eyebrow at the suspicious behavior. The Gourmet was so conceited he wouldn't risk anyone knowing his secret ingredients? Or the Gourmet was hiding something. She was trying to decide which when a door opened in the back toward the room where the Emperor was waiting.

“Where is lunch! The hour grows late,” called out one of the servants. They had come with the Emperor's entourage and Gianna didn't know them all by name or sight. 

“Coming!” she called automatically, rushing to grab a serving ladle and two thick woolen mitts. “Oh and before I forget. Can you, uh, sign my copy of your book?”

The Gourmet's grin widened at the request. “Sure, do you have a quill?”

“Oh, fuck, I don't. Forget I asked,” she muttered, feeling suddenly flustered. The Gourmet laughed to himself at the sound of her cursing. “Alright. I will carry in the pot and serve. You can just stand there and,” she grunted as she picked up the heavy, simmering pot, “well, look amazing.”

“You think I look amazing?” asked the handsome Gourmet. Gianna rushed out of the kitchen instead of answering the question. The Gourmet was right on her heels as she entered the room where the Emperor and his men were all gathered around a large table, waiting for lunch.

Gianna carefully placed the pot down and the Emperor held out his bowl. Titus Mede II was a balding man with a ring of gray hair and a long gray beard. He was wearing the finest clothes and jewelry Gianna had ever seen. She made sure not to spill a single drop as she ladled the Gourmet's own potage recipe into the Emperor's bowl. She then stood back, waiting and trying to look calm. Titus Mede II took several quick bites of the potage, moaning loudly as he did. “The Gourmet's own recipe! A true honor to be dining on your....you.....y..”

Gianna watched as the Emperor Titus Mede II fell face forward into his Potage le Magnifique. The guards all cried out before looking around the room. Eyes fell on Gianna, still holding the rest of the suspicious broth. The others looked at The Gourmet. The Nord man had pushed his way past some of the guards, pulling two black glowing daggers from somewhere on his person. He was out of the room before she could even register what had happened. The secret ingredient. The Gourmet had poisoned the Emperor. The Gourmet carried two scary daggers. Wait. Was that even the Gourmet?


	2. The Rescuer

The Castle Dour Dungeon hadn't been on the top list of sights Gianna wanted to see during her stay in Solitude. She was sitting behind bars wearing dirty pants and a sleeveless shirt issued to her by the dungeon guards. Giving up her tall white chef's hat had been the hardest part of her arrest.

She had received that hat when she first started cooking at the Blue Palace. Odar, the head chef there, had been such a welcome change from the cad she had studied under in Markarth. He used to tell her that jarls and thanes would come and go, but a good cook was irreplaceable. Odar was a very good cook. His secret was his consistency. He wasn't concerned with impressing people with fancy garnishes or decorated treats. He earned respect by never having a bad night. Everything that left his kitchen was fresh and cooked to perfection. 

Odar had always worn his chef's uniform perfectly cleaned and his hat positioned on his head like a crown on a king. Gianna had admired him so much that she adopted the same dressing style as her own. The hat she had been issued when she started, she brought with her when she finally departed for her new position as the head chef at Castle Dour. Odar had surprised her by having her name embroidered in gold and red thread on the inside of her hat. She had never cooked a day without it clean and perched on her head. Until she handed it over to the Imperial guards. How disappointed Odar must be to know how far she had fallen. Accused of poisoning in the Emperor of Tamriel. 

In an effort to win her freedom, Gianna told the Imperials about the Gourmet being an impostor and the ingredient he added to the potage. The interrogators seemed to believe she was telling the truth. Despite that fact, others felt she needed to see the executioner's block for the crime of aiding and abetting an assassin. She swore repeatedly that she had never seen the Gourmet before. She described him as a handsome Nord, tall and broad, with auburn hair and dark brown eyes. She gave every detail from her meeting with him for their records. Well, she left out the flirting and her pathetic attempt for an autograph.

She had been in the dungeon for five days before she was led out for her trial. Gianna hadn't been allowed a bath or even a basin to freshen up. She knew she was covered in dirt and grime from the dungeon and her short black hair hung greasy and limp into her green eyes. The mattress she had been given was infested with fleas and she found it hard to stand straight and respectable for her trial while fighting the need to itch the vermin with her shackled hands. At least she wasn't crying when she stood in front of the assembly. She had run out of tears days before.

General Tullius was sitting as the judge over the matter along with Jarl Elisif. The General, in his gilded Imperial armor, was surrounded by several high ranking Imperial officers. The Jarl had her steward, court mage, and several Thanes attending her at the trial. The legendary Dragonborn had heard about the assassination attempt, rushed to Solitude and was awarded a place of honor at the trial. Gianna wasn't sure what insight the dragon slaying hero would have on a trial such as hers, but she thought if you saved the world, as the Dragonborn had done, you were automatically invited to these events. He sat in stony silence wearing frightening armor that seemed to be made out of dragon bones. 

Captain Aldis, head of the Imperial guards in Solitude, was in charge of presenting the evidence for and against Gianna. She had only to sit silently under the stares of the esteemed assembly. She forced herself not to look at the burly Redguard man wearing an executioner's uniform and wielding a frightening ax.

The Captain presented work records and reviews to substantiate that Gianna had been a hard working and loyal chef for many years. Witnesses from the kitchens were called to attest to her professional demeanor and pride in her work. Several guards had signed witness to the fact that Gianna had been searched daily and never had so much as a cooking knife on her person. Gianna was touched when Jarl Elisif stood up to speak in her defense, informing the assembly that Gianna had been a talented chef and loyal to the Empire when she worked for years at the Blue Palace. Before the verdict was decided, the Dragonborn stood up and spoke out asking only for leniency in the case of the chef. His voice seemed to rumble behind his frightening dragon bone helmet as though it was barely contained thunder.

Gianna was led out of the room for the debate over her future. She was relieved to finally be able to itch though her shackled hands made it difficult. If the assembly found her guilty, her head would be on a spike by the end of the day. If they found her innocent, perhaps she would be pardoned and allowed to take up her old position at the Castle Dour. No, she was probably fired from that position, but at least if she were innocent she could earn a recommendation to find work elsewhere in a different hold. Somewhere that no one would recognize the Imperial chef as the bumbling dolt who assisted an assassin. 

When Gianna was allowed back into the room, General Tullius stood up and addressed all of those that had gathered. She stood in her itchy prison clothes with her hands shackled. The assembly found Gianna guilty of the lesser crime of inadvertently leading to the death of the Emperor's best double. She was sentenced to lose one ear for her inability to stop an assassin. 

Gianna had only learned the specifics of what happened that day in the Tower after she had already been sitting in the dungeon for two full days. She overheard guards talking in the upper floor of the dungeon, their words echoing into the cells below. She found out the Emperor wasn't dead, but one of his impersonators had died in the line of duty. She had wept with joy-the Emperor lived! The rumors said that the Dark Brotherhood was responsible for the attempt on the Emperor's life. Gianna was not part of the Dark Brotherhood. She was a simple chef who had been living out the best day of her life that quickly morphed into her greatest nightmare. 

Her dungeon mate, Bjartur, was a Stormcloak sympathizer. She would scream at the bars for any of the guards listening above, “You won't get anything out of me, you filthy sons o'horkers.” The woman had never shut up during the entire five days Gianna had been imprisoned.

Gianna sighed and rolled over on her bed. She wondered if she was laying on the ear they would cut. Or possibly it would be the other side. It wouldn't matter. Her life as a chef was over. She couldn't get a respectable job after an accused poisoning on her record. She would be lucky to cook for a roadside inn. Everything she had ever worked for was gone in the blink of an eye. Or wink of an eye, as it were. Distracted by a handsome rogue. No, assassin. The entire situation was beyond belief. 

“I should have gotten married. My mother told me that cooking was going to make me a great wife some day. Then she couldn't figure out why I wanted to cook professionally when I could just cook for a family at some farmhouse,” said Gianna, her voice echoing off the walls.

“Leave me be, Imperial. I haven't got anything to say to you,” said the crazed prisoner one cell over.

Gianna sighed. This was her fifth night sleeping and awaiting her sentence. She was almost looking forward to getting her ear chopped off so she could stop listening to Bjartur.

“You Imperial dogs will never break my will!!” howled Bjartur. 

“Some company you keep,” said a deep voice from behind the bars of her cell. Gianna jumped out of her bed and looked around. She recognized the dark eyes gazing at her from over a cowl. The Gourmet. Today, he was wearing black leather armor with red leather accents that fit him like a second skin. She could clearly make out how broad and muscular he was as he stood leaning against the bars. Though his head was covered, she could make out hints of his unruly auburn mane. 

“What are you doing here...Sir,” she added awkwardly. She still wasn't completely sure this wasn't the Gourmet. If the Gourmet was an assassin in his free time, that certainly would be a scandal.

“Sir,” he chuckled behind the cowl. He pulled it down and gave a lopsided grin. “I came to rescue you, little chef.”

“Rescue?” she asked. The Gourmet could cook, kill for pay, and rescue someone from prison. With the slightest movement of his gloved hand, he pushed open the door of her cell. She hadn't even heard him unlock it. Gianna stood up, smoothing out her disgusting prisoner clothing.

“You look great,” said her rescuer. She gave an angry look at the man but she still followed him out of the cell. She paused as he began to walk stealthily up the stairs and toward the dungeon exit. 

“Where are you leading me?” she asked, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. 

“Somewhere safe,” he said as he led the way up the stairs and slipped her a small vial. “Drink this.”

Gianna looked at the vial and immediately thought of the secret ingredient he had added to the Emperor's potage. “No,” she said, holding the vial out as though contact with it would burn her flesh.

“It's an invisibility potion. I don't want to poison you, little chef,” he said, holding up his gloved hands, refusing to take the potion back. 

“I don't want to drink it. I don't trust you,” she said, voice trembling.

“Smart girl. But if you try to walk out of here, you are going to bring the entire guard down on our heads. If you're invisible, we will be out and on our way before they even know we're gone,” said her would be rescuer. 

“No, we can't, I can't..”

“Not very fond of your ear I take it? Or maybe you hadn't considered that a mark like that would follow you forever, marking you as a criminal when all you did was follow a recipe,” he said, his voice low in the dark corridors of the dungeon stairs. 

“You poisoned the Emperor. I told them everything I knew about you. You are here to poison me. I am sorry,” she said, her voice shaking, “I told them about you because I thought they would let me go,” said Gianna, hot tears gathering in her eyes and threatening to spill over as she spoke, appealing to the man's mercy. “I have learned my lesson. I will lose my ear and my job but let me keep my miserable life,” she said, hating that she heard a sob in the last statement.

He turned toward her in the stairway and gave a hard stare. His dark eyes were intense as he gazed into her eyes, taking her face in his hands. Gianna tried to cant her eyes down, away from his stare, but the assassin moved his face until they were almost nose to nose. “Listen to me Gianna. The last thing on Nirn I want to do right now, is hurt you. Please,” he said, taking the bottle from her hand and uncorking it. He took a small sip before handing it back. “Not poison.”

Gianna held the vial for a moment longer, and the man never stepped away. She shakily brought it to her lips and wet them quickly with her tongue before drinking the contents. He grabbed the empty vial and pocketed it somewhere on his armor. 

“Follow close,” came his command before he lifted the cowl back over the lower part of his face and began to creep out into the main area. Gianna stayed as close as possible. The man moved silently up the stairs and into the main area of Castle Dour.

Gianna looked down and saw that her hand was invisible. She couldn't even see it when she waved it directly in front of her face. She rushed to catch up with her rescuer. He had no problem sticking to the shadows and avoiding detection by the guards and soldiers alike. They made their way slowly in the cover of the night roads. He pushed her into a dark stairway and they walked to the end of the steps in blackness. She saw a door ahead and once opened she found herself north of the Solitude Docks on an empty road. Empty except for her rescuer.

He removed his cowl again and she watched as he frowned and looked around. “Sorry I don't have a change of clothes for you. This whole plan was, rather rushed. I can't believe they didn't find you innocent,” he muttered, running a hand through his thick auburn hair now free from the hooded. “I will have plenty of clothes and supplies for you in Markarth.”

“Markarth?” asked Gianna. “I don't understand...”

“You're a wanted woman Gianna. You need to get somewhere safe. I have a house in Markarth. You can lay low there for a few days before we come up with something more permanent.”

“We,” she asked, her voice incredulous. “Who are you? Are you the Gourmet?”

The man threw back his head and laughed so loud it startled Gianna. It was a broken sound, as though the man wasn't used to laughing. After several moments he had regained his composure enough to answer her. “No, little chef, I am not the Gourmet.”

“Then who,” she demanded. Gianna stared down her rescuer trying to be strong though he was much taller and wearing armor compared to her prisoner rags. She watched him seem to relax slightly in the shoulders. 

“You can call me Fen,” he said, giving a small smile. 

“Did you kill the Emperor, Fen?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

“No,” he replied, giving a humorless smile. “I killed the Emperor's decoy.”

“What did you add to the potage?” she pushed further, standing up straighter to the tall armored man.

“Jarrin Root. It's a potent poison. That's why I wouldn't let you taste the dish after I added it,” said Fen.

“You...you saved me. Even though I was a witness,” said Gianna.

“You have a cute laugh,” he said, his voice husky, low. “And that was some of the best damn baked goods I have ever tasted. It would be a shame to see that all thrown away to appease some pathetic Imperials wanting someone to bleed for their inability to protect the Emperor.”

Gianna didn't know what to say, so she stood silent instead. She wasn't in the dungeon anymore. She got to keep her ear. And the man who had put her in the dungeon, had rescued her. And he was not the Gourmet. She had never cooked for the Emperor- only an impersonator. And she had never met the Gourmet- only Fen the assassin. 

“We have to get going, little chef,” said Fen, giving a strange whistle and waiting as a horse darker than the Void galloped up. Gianna gasped when she saw the beast's glowing red eyes. She took a step back and flattened herself against the door they had used to exit Solitude.

“Shadowmere would not hurt you,” said Fen, giving a sad smile. “I know you are afraid and that this is all my fault. But I hope you will let me make it up to you. You will be safe in Markarth. You have my word.”

Gianna frowned but nodded. She had been to Markarth before. In fact, she had trained there for years under a particularly insufferable Breton. The man had made some unwanted advances on her and she had finally transferred to Solitude to cook in the Blue Palace kitchens until she got her position at Castle Dour. If she was truly going to be undercover, Markarth probably wasn't the best place. Then again it was possible she might be able to connect with old friends if the situation with this murderer went bad. Fen wasn't asking her opinion. He was already sitting astride the strange black horse and holding a gloved hand down to Gianna. 

She looked up at his face, dark eyes menacing over the top of his cowl positioned back over his mouth. She slowly lifted her hand to take his and was pulled unceremoniously onto the back of the eerie horse.

“Hold on,” he said, muffled by the cowl. Gianna did not have much experience with horse riding but she was certain of one thing. No horse she had ever ridden was as fast or as fluid and graceful as Shadowmere. The horse was fast and tireless, putting distance between the pair and the capital city of Skyim. 

“Why kill he Emperor's body double,” she asked, talking loudly over the wind rushing by as Shadowmere galloped. The road was empty here and the moons covered by clouds. Gianna felt alone in the dark with this man and his strange steed. 

“He wasn't the intended target,” said Fen, not turning toward her as he looked ahead, gripping the reigns and moving his body with the natural stride of the horse.

“How did you escape that day? I saw you draw daggers...” she stopped the line of thinking, drawn into her own terrible memories of that day. After Fen had vanished out a back door she had been apprehended, still holding the poisoned potage. She had heard shouting, steel ringing against steel, and horrible screams and groans coming from the open door where the assassin had vanished. 

“I ran,” said Fen, his voice carrying on the wind. 

Gianna didn't press the issue further. Of course he had ran, that part was obvious, but how was he able to evade the entire Imperial force stationed at Castle Dour and the additional men from the Emperor's own guards, the Penitus Oculatus. She tried to imagine this man scaling walls, winning sword duels with only two daggers, and then carrying the princess away on a white horse. No matter how hard she tried to see him that way, she kept coming back to the reality. More likely, Fen had stabbed as many guards in the back as possible in order to run away on some demon horse. Maybe Fen was a demon himself.

That thought left her feeling a cold dread in her stomach as they galloped down the road toward the Reach and its capital city built on Dwemer ruins.


	3. The Assassin

Gianna woke up on an uncomfortable bed in a strange place. Her first thought was relief that it wasn't the dungeon. Finally, the memories of the long horse ride and arriving at Markarth in the middle of the night came back to her. She had fallen asleep at some point on the ride and Fen helped her down from the horse and put his arm around her waist to support her as they walked through the city gates.

There had been stairs. So many stairs. After Gianna had stumbled sleepily, the strong man had lifted her up with no more effort than lifting a child, and carried her quickly to the top level of Markarth. He opened a door and left her in the care of a muscular blond Nord he introduced as Argis. Gianna had been so exhausted she barely complained when she was tucked into a bed that felt like stone.

The next morning she saw that it was stone. Just like many of the other dwarven structures in the large home. There were no windows to tell her the time. Gianna stood up and saw that she was still wearing her prisoner clothes. She turned when she heard movement in the room adjoining the bedroom.

“Oh good, you're awake,” came a low, gruff voice that wasn't Fen. Argis, she reminded herself.

“Greetings,” she said, formally.

“There's clothes for you. In the bedroom cabinet,” said Argis. “Would you like a bath?”

“Oh,” said Gianna. “I um, thank you. Please.”

She knew some dwarven houses in Markarth had pipes that brought hot water. There had been such amenities in Understone Keep when she had been an apprentice chef there. The large tub in Fen's house was made of dwarven metal and the water steamed invitingly. Gianna waited until Argis walked out of the area before stripping from her clothes and sinking neck deep into the large tub. With one long exhale, she could feel the stress and filth of her dungeon stay leaving her for good.

She soaked her short black hair, and scrubbed at her tan skin. Argis had left a woolen cloth and some juniper scented soap within reach and she used them to clean herself all over. Then she cleaned herself again. The water was just starting to grow cool when she heard a soft laugh behind her.

She sat up straight in the tub, clutching her knees to her chest as she looked around, wet hair falling into her green eyes. She saw Fen sitting on a stone bench nearby. The leather armor from the previous day was replaced with a plain woolen shirt and some buckskin pants. His auburn hair looked clean and combed. 

“Did you sleep well, little chef?” he asked, the richness of his voice and Nord accent bringing her back to that fateful day in the Castle Dour kitchen. 

Gianna gave an irritated grunt. “You could wait until I was out of the tub. That would be the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“I couldn't wait,” said Fen, averting his eyes but still smiling that roguish grin. “I have to leave for business. I am riding out to Whiterun immediately.”

“What kind of business,” asked Gianna, trying to lower herself deeper into the tub to keep her modesty.

“Well,” he said grinning, “family business. You could say. I lost some family members recently...” His face took on a serious, dark expression after the last admission.

“Oh, I'm so sorry,” Gianna said, feeling sympathy for the man who had saved her life. Even if he was a murderer. “It is never easy when you lose someone close to you.”

“No,” he agreed, staring away with his dark eyes. “Mother wants me to get to Whiterun to meet with someone important. Once my business there is done, I will come back to Markarth. It shouldn't be too long.” Fen stood up and walked to the archway out of the room where the bath was set up near the cook fire. “Make yourself at home in the mean time, but please, don't leave the house. I can't guarantee your safety outside of these walls. Argis is yours to command. He can do any shopping or chores you require. I'll come and see you as soon as I get back.”

And like that he was gone, his steps not even making a sound as he disappeared from her view. Gianna waited several moments before calling out quietly. “Argis?”

The man appeared quickly, wearing his armor and looking more like a warrior than some kind of house servant. “Could I get a towel?” she asked, meekly. 

“Ah. One moment,” came his gruff reply.

The bedroom cabinet had clothes for her, but the sheer volume had her mouth dropping open. There were fine woolen robes, fancy snow fox shawls, simple cotton slips and even a low cut dress with a leather bodice. Gianna felt scandalized even holding the garment. She settled on a plain shift and a light blue kirdle. There was a comb of dwarven design that she used to fix her hair and a tiny mirror she used to check her appearance. 

Gianna helped herself to a tour of the house. Fen had said she could make herself at home, after all. The house plan was strange owing to the fact that this dwelling had been Dwemer ruins at some point. There were no doors to speak of but rather alcoves separated by archways. The master bedroom opened to the kitchen and the dining area opened to several small alcoves. The entire plan left any inhabitants exposed to one another. Privacy was in short supply. 

There were several treasures she observed during her tour that made her stop and take notice. She saw an armor mannequin dressed in a full set of ebony armor. Such a creation would cost a fortune and yet it was just standing here, not even being used. Fen either came from great wealth or assassinating paid better than Gianna would have thought. 

She tried to push the thought out of her mind. The man who had rescued her was also the man who had tried to kill the Emperor and landed her in the dungeon in the first place. This man had ruined her life. And yet what choice did she have? She could return to the dungeon, probably lose both ears as additional punishment for escaping, and then live as an outcast from society. That is, if they didn't take her head. There was nothing appealing about that course of action. 

The house had a fully stocked alchemy station in one room with a strange display of staves on the wall. A weapons rack in the main room held a sword that glowed like the sun. She opened a drawer in another room with an enchanting table and had squealed as a shower of filled soul gems fell onto the floor. A dagger sitting in a display case made her stomach twist uncomfortably as she admired it. The bookshelves were overflowing with books, rare and common, and hand written journals. There was a strange note on the side of the bookshelf held in place by a steel dagger that simply read “We Know” with a black hand print. 

The more Gianna explored the more confused she was about Fen. There was another chest in the area where Argis slept and Gianna found that it was locked. It was the only thing she had found that was locked which seemed curious. She wandered into the kitchen area and saw Argis turning a spit where a chunk of beef was speared and roasting. 

Gianna walked quickly over to the meat and sniffed the air. “What did you use to season?”

“Season?” Argis asked.

Gianna looked in horror at a pot of boiling water where some potatoes were boiling in their skins. “What is it you think you are doing in here?” she asked, her voice rising in pitch. 

“Cooking lunch?” came the questioning reply.

“No you fucking are not. Get out,” said Gianna, putting her hands on her hips.

Argis seemed shocked at the outburst from the tiny Imperial woman, but instead of arguing he held his hands up and walked out of the room with a large shrug of his broad shoulders. 

“Thank you. Sorry,” Gianna called after him. “Sorry and Thank you!”

She rummaged through the kitchen and ran to the alchemy cove she'd seen earlier and began working on a perfect rub for the beef out of garlic and fire salts. She used the left over fire salt to add to the potatoes along with some milk and butter once they were ready to be hand mashed. By the time the beef was roasted to a perfect temperature with a warm pink center and crispy seasoned outside, the potatoes were already rested and ready to serve.

“Lunch!” she called out to Argis. The man walked back into the kitchen, brows drawn together and watching Gianna suspiciously as though she might chase him from the kitchen again. Gianna had cut out a portion of beef and scooped some potatoes onto the plate for her guardian. 

Argis picked up a chunk of the beef with his fingers, in the typical Nord fashion, and brought it to his mouth. He chewed for several seconds his brow slowly relaxing and his eyes widening. “Shor's bones, how did you do that?”

Gianna just laughed. “If I give you a list of ingredients, do you think you could get them for me here in town? I know there's an apothecary and a general store. Is the man who sells fresh meat still near the stalls?”

Gianna spent the rest of the evening writing out her list of ingredients and preparing a menu. While she was kept under house arrest, she may as well get in some fun cooking time. It was nice to cook for herself for a change instead of working on whatever was ordered by the higher ups at Castle Dour. The men there ate a lot of meat and not enough fancy soups and pastries. 

The next day she cooked the remaining beef in with some eggs and elve's ears herbs to feed to Argis for breakfast. He left her alone in the house while he went to complete her grocery list of items. In the meantime, Gianna took an inventory of the ingredients available. 

The pantry was horribly under stocked. It was possible that Fen didn't live here full time because there was hardly enough dried goods to last for a full month for two people, assuming Argis always lived here as well. She found some apples and picked the best ones to be chopped up into a pie. Once the pie was cooling on a stone table she saw she had enough left over to start a batch of apple muffins.

She had just wiped her floury hands on her borrowed brown dress she was wearing that day when she heard the door to the house open and close. “Perfect timing! I was running out of things to ba...”

It wasn't Argis who entered, but Fen and he was following his nose into the kitchen. “What is that delightful smell,” he asked, his voice thick and low. 

Gianna blushed, remembering the day in the kitchen at the Castle Dour when she had thought he was the Gourmet. He had enjoyed her baking then. Fen found the pie quickly and then the small bowl of hot muffins. He grabbed one and took a bite, moaning as he collapsed into a stone chair. 

“Oh Gianna, this is divine,” he said, taking another large bite. 

Gianna gave an embarrassed chuckle. “It's just what you had laying around. Argis is out now buying ingredients for me. I will bake you something much better once I have a better stock.”

“You were baking these for me?” he asked, licking his fingers of the last crumbs of the muffin.

“This is your house,” she said, avoiding the question.

“But you were baking them for me,” he asked, a small smile spreading on his handsome face. 

“I'm thankful. That I am out of that dungeon. But I know you put me there as well. So, thanks but no thanks. Here's some fucking muffins.”

Fen laughed and it sounded strange, as though he hadn't been laughing much lately. “I was happy to find you alive in that dungeon. I thought the way the Penitus Oculatus was overreacting about the whole ordeal that they would take your head for sure,” said Fen.

“I was surprised too. The Jarl spoke of my loyalty from when I worked in her kitchen. The Dragonborn even showed up to ask leniency. And I complied with everything they asked. About you I mean. I told them everything.”

“I thought you would. I'm not upset about that, Gianna,” he said, standing up and walking to where she was standing. He reached out and took one of her flour coated hands. “I came back to make sure no one else had to die because of that one horribly botched assassination.”

“Are you in the Dark Brotherhood?” Gianna asked, boldly. “The guards were talking, when I was in the dungeon. They said it was the Dark Brotherhood that tried to assassinate the Emperor.”

Fen laughed, rubbing a thumb over the hand he was holding loosely. “Do you really want to ask me questions like that?”

“Yes,” said Gianna. “My life is over and I am trapped here in this house so I would like to at least know why.”

“Planning on informing the guards and hoping you can get your old position back?” he asked, his voice deadly serious.

“No,” whispered Gianna. She was feeling surprised that the thought actually hadn't even occurred to her. “No I don't want you in jail.”

“Where do you want me?” he asked, turning those dark eyes on hers and making the kitchen suddenly feel entirely too warm. 

“I'm an escaped prisoner and a failed cook. What I want isn't important anymore,” she said, suddenly feeling very miserable. She took her hand back from his and frowned down at it.

“The assassination attempt, it didn't go well. My family was betrayed and suffered greatly. And in the depth of that suffering and pain, I couldn't stand the thought of that adorable chef dying as well. I heard about your trial and I came to rescue you.”

Gianna didn't know what to make from the honest explanation. She wondered what kind of family problems or deaths had occurred. Fen seemed pained just speaking about them.

“I don't have much of a plan for your future right now, but I vow to you, little chef, that I will find you a future in Skyrim or wherever you want. I will devote all of my time and energy to that as soon as I am able. Right now, I have pressing business back in Solitude.”

Solitude? Thinking about returning to the city where she had been imprisoned made her breath quicken and heart race. 

“If I don't make it back, Argis has his instructions. You will inherit this house and all that's inside of it. I would recommend selling it all, including the house, and making your way to wherever you want to go. Argis will go with you, as your sworn shield.”

“What, you're leaving again so soon? What kind of danger? Is this another assassination?” she asked, trying to keep the panic from her voice. Fen put a hand around her waist and pulled her close to him, shushing her softly.

“Don't ask me questions you don't want to know the answer to, little chef,” said Fen, moving a hand to softly tilt her head up. His eyes were dark and serious as they met hers and he held her gaze for several seconds. Gianna licked her lips, certain he was getting ready to kiss her. Fen gave a soft sigh and a smile. “Take care of yourself, Gia.”

The nickname had been common when she was young but no one had called her Gia for some time. She felt her cheeks blushing and she looked down, feeling a weight of disappointment as the warmth from his body dissipated. She watched him walk out the door, holding it open for Argis who had returned with large sacks full of ingredients. 

Gianna didn't want to sit around and feel nervous about the future. She didn't want to worry about whether Fen would return from Solitude soon or not. She didn't want to think about how badly she had wanted to kiss him. Fen. A murderer.

When Gianna didn't want to think- she cooked. So she got to work with the ingredients Argis had provided. She baked fresh braided loaves of bread, glazed pastries, and carefully mixed different spices and ingredients for future cooking recipes. She had asked Argis his favorite meals and the man had surprised her with his love of salmon. She had prepared, special for him, a beautiful salmon filet in a garlic butter sauce with a hint of frost mirriam a side dish of honeyed carrots. The apple pie was for dessert.

“Are you single, Gianna?” asked Argis. The question caught her off guard and her mouth hung open as she stared at the man. She remembered what Fen had said about Argis in the event Fen never made it back. Argis just laughed at her expression. “They say the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach. You could have any man you wanted, cooking like that.”

Gianna laughed, realizing that the man was making a kindhearted joke and not trying to crawl into the stone bed with her tonight. After dinner she cleaned and organized the kitchen before setting into bed. Her dreams were filled with disturbing imagery of Fen and those glowing black daggers she had seen the day of the Emperor's luncheon. She could see him coming toward her, covered in blood, that lopsided grin on his face. In her dream, he was talking and laughing as though nothing was wrong while the blood continued to seep into the room around them until it was threatening to drown them both. Gianna woke feeling weary and her hands were sore from gripping at the blankets all night.


	4. The Thane

It was hard to know what time it was since Gianna hadn't seen the sky since the day of her escape from the dungeon, but she woke from a deep sleep and knew it was late. Past midnight. And a loud noise had ripped her from sleep. She jumped out of the large stone bed wearing a long woolen night gown. She padded, barefoot, across the cool stones and peeked around a corner to see a figure lunging into the house wearing black and red leather armor. Argis was already there and wearing light hide armor which Gianna supposed he wore to sleep. 

“Forget your potions?” came Argis' scalding tone. He put the man's arm around his shoulder and began to drag the figure into the main hall. Gianna gasped as she saw it was Fen. He was covered in blood but she had no idea how much of it was his own. “We're going to need the bed, Gianna. Sorry.”

Argis pulled the man into the room and laid him on the stone bed. Fen gave an audible grunt and Argis walked quickly from the room in the direction of the alchemy room. Gianna moved to the side of the bed, rushing to Fen's side.

“Fen,” she said, softly. “Fen?”

The man hissed in pain as he turned his head, taking a few short, labored breaths. “Little chef,” he breathed. He wasn't wearing his cowl but it hung torn and broken around his shoulders. Everywhere he touched the blankets, a rust colored stain was left behind. “I came straight home to you.”

Gianna didn't know how to feel about that admission. She reached a hand to move his auburn hair out of his eyes and felt stiff, dried blood on the auburn locks. “Argis is getting the potions. Just rest, Fen.”

The blond Nord arrived then and began helping Fen drink down some healing potions. At first, Fen seemed to struggle, spluttering and coughing after each attempted gulp. By the end he was drinking heartily. He then collapsed onto the bed with a satisfied sigh. “Thanks Argis. Sorry to scare you.”

“Anytime, my Thane,” said Argis. 

Thane. A title of honor in the holds of Skyrim. Fen the assassin was a Thane? It would explain the nice house but it didn't explain why he felt the need to poison emperors for payment. Gianna backed away from the scene. She went to sit next to the embers of the cook fire. She was still considering the implications of the injured Thane when Argis walked into the room.

“You're welcome to my bed tonight Gianna. I will be staying up in Fen's room, in case he needs anything.”

Gianna nodded but she couldn't hide the concern from her face.

“He's going to be fine, Gianna.”

“What is your position here Argis? What kind of house worker sleeps in armor,” she asked, looking at the large man. He had been kind to her but he was a man of few words. After hearing him call Fen a Thane, she was beginning to suspect that he may be more than a housemate. 

“I am Fen's housecarl,” said Argis. “I thought he would have told you that.”

Despite the comforting words from the housecarl, Gianna found it impossible to sleep. She kept thinking about Fen, covered in blood, stumbling into the house in the middle of the night. What had he been up to? Bandits? Dragon attack? Forsworn? Had Fen been attempting another assassination? Gianna didn't want to think about it. She tiptoed into the kitchen instead. By the time Fen was stirring she had a pot of oats with apples and spices waiting for him.

She relieved an exhausted Argis as she took up the watch in Fen's bedroom. She sat near the bed and held out a spoonful of steaming oats. 

“Feeding me now?” asked Fen, a pained expression crossing his face as he attempted to sit up further on the stone bed. 

“I was just trying to help,” Gianna said, starting to pull the spoon back. Fen gave a weak shrug and allowed himself to bed fed. He gave a happy sound at the taste of the food. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a mammoth sat down on my body then rolled over a few times,” frowned Fen.

“That good, huh?” asked Gianna, offering another spoonful. He ate it then reached out to take the bowl and spoon.

“I'm not helpless. The potions healed the wounds. I'll rest here a couple days to regain my strength. That's all,” he said. Gianna relinquished the bowl into his hands and sat by as he ate quickly, shoveling the oats into his mouth and getting some in his auburn beard. She put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile at his behavior. 

“I worried,” she admitted.

“Why?” Fen asked.

“I don't want you to be hurt,” said Gianna. He was watching her closely, wiping some of the food away from his mouth. “What happened?”

“How many times must I remind you? Don't ask questions, little chef. One day, I might start answering them, and then what will you do?” Fen asked, handing back the empty bowl. Once she took it he rolled over away from her on the bed. Gianna knew when she was being dismissed. Fen was treating her like a hired chef. He was acting like...a Thane. She was a cook and this was his house and she was keeping his kitchen, and cooking his breakfast. She'd been demoted from Head Chef of Castle Dour to the personal chef of this Thane with a dark secret.

Gianna glanced back at the motionless man and checked on Argis to find him snoring loudly in the room off the kitchen. It had been so long since Gianna had been out in the open air. She decided it was time for a small excursion. No one could mind if she left for some fresh air, as long as she returned quickly. Gianna was still wearing her night gown and slippers but she found a fur cloak near the door which she wrapped around herself. She headed out the front door and into the city. 

It was morning. By the gods, the sun was shining, and the sight from the top of the stairs brought tears to her eyes. Gianna had not enjoyed working at Understone Keep but she had missed the views of the Reach. Large, craggy mountains covered in dark green grass and thick gray fog. The morning was clear and cool, and the sound of the quick moving streams cutting through Markarth made her smile. She walked down the stairs in only her house shoes and night gown with the fur cloak. She had no money. She decided to gather some juniper berries outside of the city. She could use them to make that juniper bread that Fen had enjoyed so much the first day they met. 

The guards didn't give a second glance as she walked outside of the city, past the stables, and along the main road where thick groves of juniper trees were growing, stunted and low. Gianna used her skirt as a makeshift basket as she gathered the berries. The sun was rising and fighting away some of the mist. The fur cloak was actually starting to get warm. Gianna decided she had more than enough and walked back into the city and up the long flight of stairs. She knocked on the door and waited. 

When the door opened it was Fen, not Argis, who swung open the door. His dark eyes were wide and angry; his chest was bare and he wore only a pair of loose fitting woolen pants. “Where in Oblivion have you been?” he asked through gritted teeth. 

Any words fled her memory as she stared at the frightening angry man standing in the doorway. Fen grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her quickly into the house, shutting the door loudly behind them. He stood staring at her, breathing deeply and frowning as he watched her face. Finally, he pulled her into an embrace so tight she lost her hold on her make shift basket and juniper berries fell bouncing on the floor or crushed between their bodies. 

“Gods Gia, I was in a panic,” he said, voice thick and low. He held her tighter still, making it difficult for the Imperial woman to breathe let alone answer in any way. He kissed her hair affectionately. “It isn't safe to wander around alone right now.”

Gianna hadn't noticed any additional dangers on her short morning walk but she wasn't about to argue with an angry murderer. She instead just stood still until he released her. She looked down at the blue-black stains from the berries now staining her night gown and others littering the floor. She frowned and hated that she felt tears rising. 

He started to take a step toward her again and she flinched away. “Oh. I scared you,” he said.

Gianna looked up at him after the statement. She nodded slowly, eyes shimmering with tears. 

“Shit. I'm sorry Gia,” said Fen, sighing and looking down. “I don't want you to be scared of me.”

“How can I not be scared of you,” she hissed, not caring about the tears anymore. “I saw you try to poison the Emperor. You ruined my life. You rescued me from maiming but for what? I'm a prisoner in this house. I take a simple walk and now I am being assaulted,” she said, rubbing her elbow where he had been holding her. She shrugged off the cloak and pulled up the long sleeve of her night gown. The skin was already starting to yellow in the shape of a large hand. 

“I'm sorry Gia,” said Fen, still looking down. He turned from her and put his arm against the wall, leaning his head against his forearm. Gia was scared to walk away. She was scared to move at all really. She didn't even want to breathe lest she set him off again. “I have been through,” he said, pausing to take a deep breath and stand up straight again, “a lot of stress lately. It's no excuse for putting my hands on you. I just, thought I had lost you.”

“Where would I even go,” she asked, using the sleeve of her gown to wipe her eyes. “I'm an outlaw remember. I was found guilty of aiding an assassin, who also happens to be my roommate now.”

That made him laugh and Gia hated him for it. She narrowed her eyes at the tall man, laughing and raking his fingers through his thick auburn hair. “Roommates, I like that.”

Gia made an irritated noise and walked past him, not caring when her shoes squished on juniper berries. “I'm sorry Gia. Honestly,” he called after her.

Before Gianna even knew where she was headed, she was in the kitchen. She grabbed ingredients and unconsciously began to mix them together. She was halfway through when she realized she needed the juniper berries she had left on the ground. Irritated, she stormed to the entrance way and picked up some of the berries from the ground. She walked back in, washed them thoroughly in a basin, and added them to the mixture. Soon she was stuffing chickens with the mixture and spinning a slow spit over the fire.

She was sitting there, spinning the spit with one hand, and resting her head on her other hand as she leaned forward on her elbow in a thoughtful pose. 

“What are you cooking?” asked Fen, entering from the bedroom. Gianna didn't immediately acknowledge him. She made her face a mask of cool indifference and looked away from the man. Fen sighed. “I said I was sorry Gia.”

“For what,” she asked, keeping her voice low and calm.

“Everything,” he answered. “For involving you in the plot against your will. For keeping you here. For panicking when you left for a walk. For being an assassin. For scaring you. All of it.”

Gianna watched his face for any sign of insincerity. His dark eyes were focused on hers, not even blinking as he spoke. “Thank you.” With that simple phrase he seemed to take some deeper meaning and he sighed and drooped his shoulders slightly.

“We can work tomorrow on finding you a new place to stay. I understand if you don't want to stay with me,” said Fen. 

“I don't mind staying here,” said Gianna. 

He stopped mid-step and turned a confused look on his house guest. “You named me an assassin. You would stay with a known fugitive?”

“You forget, Fen,” said Gianna, still turning the spit and lifting her chin, “I'm a wanted woman myself.”

The lopsided grin was back on his handsome face as he walked back into the bedroom and laid down on the stone bed. Gianna could see him there, resting. The healing potions had cured his wounds but he had lost blood when returning from Solitude. Gianna didn't even want to guess what his business there had been. Probably something murdery.

She didn't like thinking that Fen was an assassin. But she did like thinking about Fen in general. He was tall and handsome with his auburn hair and beard. She thought his dark eyes could see into her very soul when he was talking to her and staring the way he did. She had seen his muscular form in his black and red armor but it was nothing compared to his bare chest. It was all well defined muscles with a dusting of auburn hair. The men who chose a life of cooking didn't tend to be in the best shape physically. The saying was that you should never trust a skinny chef. 

Gianna herself was not skinny but she was also not considered plump. She was blessed with the ability to eat however she liked and still maintain a slender frame. She wasn't what anyone would considered athletic but she wasn't self conscious about her body. Her face was on the plain side. She was no where near the same league as Fen when it came to physical appearance.

She thought as she cooked, about what could attract a man like Fen to a woman like her. She knew that often times Thanes and other nobles would seek relationships with their help. There was no pressure for marriage or commitment. If anything went wrong, the employer could always just dismiss the hireling. Now that Gianna would be working here, maybe Fen had decided she would make a nice distraction to his otherwise stressful life as an assassin.

Hours later, Gianna dished out a portion of the roast chickens with juniper dressing and a side of crispy roast potatoes onto a plate and walked it into Fen's room. “Can I interest you in dinner?” she asked softly. He was laid down but not asleep. He smiled when he saw her walking in with the plates balanced. 

Gianna sat down on a stone chair next to the large stone bed and Fen pushed himself into a sitting position. Fen reached to help her by removing the plate from her arm. Gianna smiled, setting her own plate on her lap. “Do you need something to drink?”

“ARGIS,” shouted Fen, giving a small wink. The housecarl walked in shortly, looking expectantly at Fen. “Bring us some wine?”

Gianna was shocked when the large Nord housecarl nodded and went into his personal area where some of the better wines were stored. “Should you be drinking?”

“I'm starved,” he said ignoring the question. Fen dug into the food with his fingers. He ate one of the potatoes and smiled. “Amazing. Why am I not surprised?”

Gianna smiled but she had just brought a fork full of chicken to her mouth. Even the utensils in the house were of dwemer design. She had to cover her mouth and laugh as she watched Fen moan with his mouth full after tasting the dressing.

“This is delicious. The Gourmet could learn a thing or two from you,” he laughed, chewing happily. 

“I really had wanted to meet the Gourmet, you know,” she said, feeling a tinge of sadness at the loss of her old life. “But I met you instead.”

“You make that sound so bad,” he said in between large bites of her cooking. Gianna smiled knowing he was enjoying her food. She put a little of her art and herself into every recipe. She had never wanted to impress anyone with her cooking the way she did with Fen. She liked knowing he was satisfied. She blushed at her own line of thinking.

Argis arrived with a bottle of wine and two goblets. He even stayed to pour for the pair. Gianna tasted the wine and found it was passable. She had tasted much worse actually. 

“Are you the Thane of Markarth then?” she asked, taking another sip from her goblet. 

“What gave it away,” asked Fen, using a dinner roll to scoop up all the remaining bits from his dinner. 

“The housecarl. The house. Thane Fen,” said Gianna. “I lived in Solitude, learning about the Thanes and nobles was our favorite past time.”

“You caught me,” said Fen, reaching to put his empty plate down and take up his goblet of wine. “I'm a Thane. It feels good coming clean like this. I meant what I said when we first met at the luncheon. I'm tired of trying to hide myself from everyone. I was telling the truth. No acting.”

“Why would a wealthy Thane of Markarth need to kill someone for gold. I've toured this place, seen all your treasures, you are not hurting for funds.”

“For the thrill?” he paused and met her eyes. There was something dark hidden in those eyes. Something she often tried to ignore. His stare made her feel unsettled but also slightly aroused.

“That seems...I mean, surely there are more thrilling things to do,” said Gianna, almost dropping her goblet as she stared dumbfounded. 

“Not for someone like me,” said Fen. “I'm kind of a thrill addict. I can't help it. It's just who I am. My nature.”

“Well. I can respect your dedication to follow what you want,” she said, already feeling stupid for having said it. Why did she keep seeing the bright side of his terrible personality traits. He had killed someone in front of her. He was making no attempt to hide his profession. He was... trusting her. That thought filled her with a strange ache in her heart. 

“May I walk out tomorrow? I understand why you were wary before, but I would like some sunlight at least once a day. Please,” she said, smiling politely. 

“Argis goes with you,” Fen said.

It seemed like a reasonable request. “Thank you,” she said, picking up the dishes as she stood up. She walked out into the kitchen and prepared to clean up. 

“Gianna?” called his familiar voice from the bedroom. He waited until she had walked back to the bedside before he continued. “I have something I think you will like.” He sat up and hung his legs over the side of the bed. Fen opened a drawer and pulled out a couple of books. One was some type of journal but the other she recognized by its binding. “Consider them a gift.”

“Uncommon Taste? You know I have already read it,” she said, reaching to take the books he offered. She flipped open the familiar cover and stopped cold. She was looking in awe at a small scribbled signature. “But you are not the Gourmet. I did not know when I asked for your autograph.”

“No,” he laughed, laying back down on the bed. “It wasn't me who autographed it.”

She flipped open the journal and saw that it contained recipes and notes in that same penmanship. She looked at Fen with lowered eyes. “So you...know the Gourmet?”

“Knew,” he corrected, putting his hands behind his head as he laid back, grinning. “He was murdered.”

“How horrible,” she almost sobbed. Her idol that she had almost met was dead now. And somehow, Fen had his personal notes and a signed copy of his book. “Did you have something to do with that?”

“Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to,” said Fen, dropping his head onto his pillow. “I hope you like the books.”

Gianna hugged them to her chest as she walked over to the room where Argis' bed sat. She sat them down and thought about how they were the only possessions she had in this world. And in certain circles, they were priceless treasures. Her hands trembled to read the hand written recipes and marvel at the ingenuity of the Gourmet's mind. Her heart ached to think that mind was no longer among the living. She found it hard to shake off a sick, cold feeling she had about her host before she finally found restless sleep.


	5. The Lover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut Warning. Sexual Language ahead. Sorry not sorry!

Gianna was cooking when Fen woke the next morning. From where she sat in the kitchen, she saw him stand up and begin to undress. She quickly moved to where her back was to his room. She had to remind herself to breathe as she listened intently. The whisper of cloth against skin as he disrobed, the sound of leather being pulled up over his muscular legs, then the sound of kicking on boots. She waited for the tantalizing sounds to end. She couldn't stop imagining Fen without those clothes. The tingling in her groin was causing her to become distracted with her task.

“Smells great,” Fen said when he entered the room. Gianna had barely heard him enter, his steps were soft despite wearing boots and his usual casual attire of a loose shirt and buckskin pants. She quickly spooned him some of the egg and beef sausage she was frying. She portioned the rest out for herself and Argis. Fen had already dug his hands into the hot breakfast and was hissing and bringing the burnt fingers to his mouth.

“It's fresh off the fire, Fen,” she chided with a slight roll of her eyes. “Argis! Eggs.”

The three of them ate in relative silence, interspersed with Fen making happy noises while he ate. “No one's ever cooked for me before,” he said using a roll to soak up all the remaining bits.

“Your mother wasn't big into cooking?” Gianna asked after swallowing a small bite.

“No mother. Orphan,” he said, continuing to eat without missing a beat.

Gianna hoped she hadn't brought up something painful mentioning his mother. Fen was an orphan? “You talked about your mother before though, as though she were alive?”

“Ah well, Mother is a part of my...family. It's more of a title, though she is like a mother to me and everyone else. The alive part, well, that's...a long story,” said Fen, chewing away loudly at his bread.

Another strange, cryptic remark from Fen. The man grew more and more mysterious. Gianna decided to change the subject. “You're a Thane, surely you can afford to eat fine food,” she commented, scraping up the last of her own breakfast.

“Paying someone to cook for you is different than having someone cook for you,” he said, setting down his dirty plate, “you know, because they want to.”

“I do not mind cooking for you,” she said, keeping her eyes on her plate. She wanted to please him but she had no intention of telling him that. Thankfully, Argis entered the room and interrupted the following silence with the sounds of eggs and sausage being inhaled. After several minutes she finally asked, “When do you want to go out today, Argis?”

The housecarl looked up at her, and then at Fen, and then swallowed his mouthful of eggs. “My Thane wanted to take you out himself.”

When Gianna looked over at Fen, he was smiling his confirmation of what the housecarl had said. “Oh, that will be fine too then,” she said.

“We can go as soon as you'd like,” Fen offered.

As soon as the dishes were cleaned, Gianna was following Fen out the front door of the house. He was dressed casually and she was wearing one of the nicer woolen gowns from the collection he had provided for her. “What did you want to do during your hour of freedom?”

Gianna laughed. “Should I truly feel like I am being held captive?”

“You're not my captive, little chef. Though if you keep cooking this much delicious food I may never let you leave,” he said grinning. Gianna thought he might be flirting with her. It was difficult to tell. She was inexperienced with flirting other than the threatening advances of her first cooking teacher. She had had other consensual sexual experiences but it was more friendly agreements or drunken arrangements than any real flirting.

“Vlindrel Hall,” said Fen as they walked. “It's the name of the house where I live. The large building across the way is the Shrine of Talos. It was put to use after the Jarl Igmund promised Ulfric that Markarth would allow Talos worship, despite the White-Gold Concordant's decree. It was part of the agreement that led to Ulfric winning back Markarth for the Empire from the natives. Too bad the empire took issue with that and Igmund went back on the promise.”

“You worship Talos?” she asked as they walked along the streets of Markarth toward the Keep.

“Depends. Are you a Thalmor?” asked Fen, giving a roguish grin to Gianna. She couldn't help but laugh about that.

“No, I am not a Thalmor agent. Do I look like an Altmer?” she asked, smiling as he offered her his arm. She slid her own through his and allowed him to lead them. He leaned in close, his face coming very close to hers and making her blush.

“Sorry was just checking your ears for any points,” he grinned. They walked over some of the stone bridges and in the general direction of the Keep.

“Why did you choose to live in Markarth? Are you from here?” she asked, admiring the rainbows caused by the light reflecting from the waterfall mists.

“No, not from Markarth,” said Fen, grinning. “I decided to buy Vlindrel after the dragons returned. Everything here is made of stone. Even the beds. Less to burn...”

“I wouldn't be afraid of dragons. The Dragonborn has them running for the mountains. I saw him in Solitude. His armor is made from their very bones,” said Gianna, smiling as they arrived at the entrance to the Dwemer ruins that act as the Jarl's residence.

“Would you like a tour of Understone Keep?” Fen asked as a pair of guards patrolled across the entrance to the large Dwemer ruins that housed the Jarl of Markarth.

“That's alright. I have been there before,” she said, looking away from the dwarven metal doors.

“You have visited Markarth?” asked Fen. “Recently?”

“I studied under a chef here in Markarth. He wasn't a particularly nice man and he made me very uncomfortable. I don't remember my time there fondly. I transferred to Solitude and was happy to accept my first job as a staff chef for the Blue Palace. That's where I met Jarl Elisif. I worked there for almost five years before I received the position at Castle Dour.”

“You're an accomplished chef. I am impressed,” said Fen, staring at the waterfalls that fell around the sides of Understone Keep. “

“Of course I was accomplished. They don't let just anyone cook for the Emperor and meet the Gourmet. My career was at its peak before...” she sighed. “Well, you know.”

Fen frowned, brow wrinkling as he thought for several moments. Gianna caught herself staring at him. His beard was growing longer and wilder. His dark eyes staring into nothing. He was wearing a nice tunic that matched his pants and a clean undershirt. The silence would have continued except a guard from the keep walked closer and seemed to recognize Fen.

“You hear the news?” asked the guard, his full covering helmet obscuring his identity. “The Emperor has been murdered! Right here, in Skyrim. By the gods, if the Dark Brotherhood can do that, nobody's safe...”

Gianna felt her blood run cold. She cast a sideways glance at Fen and saw that he was watching her closely for any reaction. Gianna stiffened and straightened her back, walking away from the Keep and toward the apothecary shop. Fen made some remark to the guard before catching up to her and taking her arm once again.

“The Emperor,” said Gianna, simply. Fen gave a short grunt. “You succeeded this time.” Another grunt. “And he almost took your life in return.”

That made Fen laugh, a sound that was growing more and more relaxed as they spent time together. “No, the old man was very understanding. Accepting even. It was a pleasure to know him, actually.”

“But you were so bloody...” she said, quietly.

“I had a score to settle. The first attempt with the potage, it didn't go well because,” he paused, suddenly seeming to remember that he was talking freely with a chef about assassination business. Gianna was watching politely, her expression no different than if they had been discussing the weather. “Well,” he continued, his voice lower, “someone betrayed my family.”

“The Brotherhood you mean,” Gianna corrected softly.

“They are my family. We were betrayed by one of our own. I had to take care of the situation. We lost some great people...”

“Killers? Like you?” she asked.

“Yes, but great none-the-less,” Fen said.

Gianna nodded, considering the statement. Fen was a dangerous person but he wasn't without a heart. He had saved her. He was caring for her. There were portions of his life and personality that frightened her, but she was still willing to open her heart to him. This Thane that works as a Dark Brotherhood assassin. This man who trusts her with his life, since surely that's the least of what it would cost if the authorities knew what she knew.

“I understand,” said Gianna.

“Do you,” asked Fen, turning to look into her face, his expression curious. “Why do you not run away or look afraid or attempt to turn me from this path at the very least?”

“I've known what you were since the day you pulled those daggers out at the Emperor's luncheon. It's hard to sit here and find issue with it when I have already accepted it in my own way. It frightens me. Sometimes. But I think, despite your...uh...occupation, you are a good person,” she said, looking at the ground to avoid those eyes. “You have a good heart.”

The two walked all over the city, taking in the sites. Fen pointed out landmarks and interesting people such as Cidhna Mine, an Orsimer blacksmith he had assisted, and the Temple of Dibella. The last had made Gianna blush horribly when Fen admitted he had been there several times.

“I helped them with a spiritual matter. It wasn't anything sexual,” he said, causing Gianna to blush horribly and stutter in an attempt to find a response. He had only laughed at her discomfort. “You're adorable.”

Gianna felt warm all over by the time they walked back to Vlindrel Hall. Argis was inside polishing a dangerous looking ebony battleaxe inside his sleeping area. Gianna put away some small ingredients she had bought to use later. Once the items were put away, she returned to the kitchen to find Fen opening cabinets and rummaging through drawers looking for something.

“What the fuck are you doing,” snapped Gianna, glaring at the man tearing through her painstakingly organized kitchen.

“I was looking for something, some wine, I wanted to give it to you. I thought you might like it,” said Fen, raising an eyebrow at the sudden outburst from the usually quiet Imperial.

“If I am to cook in this kitchen, you do **not** touch anything. I have a very methodical way to organizing my kitchen and if anything is out of place it really stresses me out. Do you understand?” she asked.

“This is my kitchen,” he said, his tone questioning.

“Do you want me to cook here or not?” she spat.

“Yes, please,” he said, suddenly apologetic. “I really, really like your cooking.”

“Then stay the fuck out of my kitchen drawers,” she said, turning her nose up and walking back to the pantry and starting to pull out some ingredients. “Sorry but if I am to work here, I have to feel comfortable in my own kitchen. And I moved the wine to the chests in the storage alcove.”

“Thank you,” said Fen, giving a bewildered look at the tiny Imperial woman. Gianna may stand much shorter than him and lack any of his physical abilities but he couldn't help be a little intimidated when she spoke with such vitriol. She was passionate about her cooking process.

Fen went into the area and rummaged around for several minutes. Gianna could hear the _clink_ of glass bottles bumping into one another coming from the alcove. She was busy putting together some ingredients and herbs for a creamy fish soup for dinner. Fen and Argis were talking about something in the side room. Gianna finally had the ingredients added and the pot over the fire. She cleaned her hands and started to walk away to allow the soup to simmer when she almost walked right into Fen.

“I thought you might like to have this,” he said, offering her a strange shaped bottle of wine. “It's a special edition of the spiced wine they sell in Solitude. I only have one bottle left. It's very rare and I know it could make a fine addition to one of your recipes.”

“Oh, thank you,” said Gianna, accepting the gift and looking over the label. “That's very thoughtful of you Fen.”

“I'm pleased that you like it,” he said, taking a step closer to where Gianna was standing until their bodies were very close. Gianna looked up and was shocked to see he was staring at her, as though warring with two opposing decisions in his mind. Fen moved to gently lift her chin as he leaned down to lightly kiss her lips.

Gianna's blood sang. She was a woman and this was a handsome man who saved her from a dungeon and had shown her great kindness. It would be so easy to surrender to the kiss and slide her hands up his chest over his clothing. Crawling into his bed could be the perfect way to sooth her nerves and bring them closer together. But she also knew that she was only the hired help. Some cooks or other servants might not have a problem earning some benefits by offering sexual favors to their employers, but Gianna had never been one of them. How could Fen ever respect her if she allowed such behavior?

She pulled away from the kiss, looking up at Fen. He kept his expression cautious, guarded. He leaned close to her ear to whisper, “Is something wrong Gia?”

She hated herself in that moment. She hated the way her womahood was throbbing at the nearness of him and the feel of his breath against her ear. She hated how badly she wanted to jump into his bed and give him everything his kiss was requesting. She hated that she couldn't live with herself in the morning if she allows any of that to happen. “I'm sorry Fen. You're very kind, and...handsome,” she breathed the word more than spoke it, “but I never allow additional benefits for my employers. It's a bad habit to fall into. I hope you understand...”

“Employer,” he said, brown eyes narrowing as he looked at her. “You think I'm your employer?”

Gianna's green eyes went wide. “Oh. Well. You brought me here, and I cook for you. Lots of Thanes have chefs that live in their homes. Do you not want me to cook for you?”

Fen's face fell as he listened to her speak. When he finally answered, his voice was low and flat, “I didn't bring you here to be my personal cook, Gia. I don't want you to cook for me unless you want to.” He raked his hand through his thick auburn hair as he looked away, lost in thought.

“Why did you bring me here, then?” she asked, feeling very lost and confused. Her heart was fluttering that she had hurt Fen's feelings by refusing his advances.

“I don't know,” he said, not looking at her again as he walked out of the kitchen through the archway that led to the master bedroom. Gianna was left looking at the ground. She felt like an idiot. She had refused a man that she wanted to bed, for her own personal work ethic, when she wasn't even an employee. She had hurt his feelings.

She busied herself with the now simmering soup, adding ingredients, salt and spices, tasting and adding some more. She finally had everything cooked to perfection and she served out a portion for everyone in the house at the large stone table. Fen walked in, grabbed a bowl and a chunk of bread, and took the food to his bedroom. Argis sat next to her and began to eat heartily.

“Oh Gianna, this is great,” said Argis, slurping away at the fish stew. “You should make something with mudcrab next.”

“I know a great recipe,” she said, smiling politely at the housecarl. Argis was a man of few words, but when he spoke he meant it. Gianna was thankful for his company. Especially when Fen was so obviously upset with her. Perhaps she should be nervous that an assassin was angry at her, but Gianna dismissed the thought outright. She trusted that Fen would never hurt her.

She cleaned up dinner and Argis stayed in the main room, cleaning and polishing other weapons as part of some weakly routine. He was dedicated to his job as a housecarl. Gianna glanced at the master bedroom and saw that Fen was awake though he was not making any moves to socialize with anyone in the house. She felt worried. So she did what she always did when she worried.

She lost track of time as she orchestrated the perfect dessert. The hour was growing late but she checked occasionally and saw that that Fen was still awake, reading some tattered book. His auburn hair was falling slightly in his eyes as he looked down and she longed to push those bangs out of his brown eyes while he read. She tried to be quiet as she cooked, but the smells must have been difficult to ignore. She wanted to apologize for rebuking him. She wanted to bake for him. She wanted...him.

When Gianna finally ventured slowly into the bedroom, Fen was leaning back on his stone bed with his legs out straight and a book on his lap. His chest was bare and he wore a pair of woolen pants as he often did around the house. He looked up from his book, gazing at her through his overgrown bangs. Gianna entered carrying a large bowl.  
  
"What's this," he asked, dark eyes cool as they studied her. Fen sniffed when an enticing aroma hit his nostrils.   
  
"Bread pudding. I used some of our old bread, baked in some brandy and snowberries, then finished with a boiled cream sauce," said Gianna, sitting lightly on the edge of his stone bed, resting the warm bowl in her lap. Her hair was clean and brushed and she wore a loose fitting woolen gown more appropriate as a night gown.   
  
"It's a little late for dessert," he said, raising an auburn eyebrow. His hair was disheveled and falling into his eyes as he watched her.   
  
"Think of it as a midnight snack?" Gianna's smile was shy, nervous. Fen put the book down on the night table. He was intrigued.   
  
"You don't have to cook for me, Gia," he said, sitting up and bringing his knees up. His dark eyes were unreadable as they watched her.   
  
"I know. I cooked this because I wanted to," she said, voice low and eyes not daring to meet his. "That is, I baked this for you."   
  
When she finally met his eyes she almost forgot how to breathe. He had been clear before. She didn't work for him. He wouldn't force her to do anything she didn't want to do. His eyes were tense as he looked at her, letting her admission sink in. She baked for him. She wanted to bake for him. And by the smell, she had made something delicious.   
  
Gianna knew he wouldn't push. Not after her reaction before. She took a deep breath and picked up a soggy piece of bread, holding it between her thumb and index finger. She held a hand underneath to catch any excess sauce dripping off and brought it to Fen's mouth.   
  
His lips opened without hesitation and a hand flew around hers, keeping it there as he accepted the morsel. He looked in her eyes as he closed his lips around the finger she had used to serve him, and sucked them clean.   
  
Fen gave a deep, erotic moan. "Gods Gia, that's amazing. Better than any other dessert you've made thus far."   
  
Gianna blushed and brought another dripping bite up to his lips. Fen ate it just as eagerly, slowly licking her fingers clean before releasing her hand again. The attention made her insides somersault. She ate a bite herself and a stray drip fell on her collar bone, left exposed by her loose gown.   
  
Fen was staring at the droplet of cream sauce, staining her dark tan skin, tantalizing him. Before he could stop himself he dropped his knees and sat up, leaning into her to lick the tiny droplet off of her skin. Gianna's skin felt electric where his mouth had been. Fen lifted his head to whisper roughly against her ear, "Delicious."   
  
Gia couldn't control the moan that escaped her lips. The noise seemed to snap Fen out of his trance. He leaned back, breathing deeply, daring to meet her eyes. Gianna was afraid to move. He was so close on the bed, radiating heat, eyes smoldering.   
  
She slowly dipped a finger into the dish, bringing up a small dollop of the sauce and while holding his gaze she slowly traced the finger down her throat and beneath the neckline of her plain gown.   
  
Fen growled as he lunged to crush his lips again Gia's throat. He was licking, kissing, tasting her skin following the trail of sticky sweet sauce. He pulled the loose gown down by the neck line and saw her cleavage free from any breast band. He stifled a pained noise, looking at Gia with barely contained longing.   
  
She brought her glazed finger to his lips. They opened automatically as she traced them slowly, smiling when his tongue flicked out to taste the sweet trail. She pushed forward, lips soft against his, feeling the heat from his mouth against hers.   
  
He reached up to tangle his fingers in her hair, holding her close, pressing his forehead against hers as he struggled to keep his breathing calm. "Gia..." he muttered before claiming her lips.   
  
He kissed her with need, tongue insistent against her lips until she opened and he could taste her fully. The spike of liquor. The sweetness of the cream. The taste that was only Gia. He lost himself in the kiss.   
  
Gianna had never felt such a scalding heat radiating out from her core before. She put the bowl aside on the bed, lest the lingering warmth there make her any hotter. She was kissing Fen in his bed. She was feeding Fen.   
  
She gave a soft whimper when he broke the kiss and spoke in a low voice, thick with desire. "I would never wish to take advantage, Gia," he broke off, breathing ragged,"I just can't stop myself from wanting more of you..."   
  
Gianna disentangled herself from him long enough to slide the loose night gown over her head and drop it beside the bed. Underneath, she was bare, tanned skin smooth in the soft light of the room. His eyes took in her shapely breasts, dusky nipples, and the soft curves of her stomach, hips and thighs. He bit back a moan at the soft curly hairs between her closed thighs.   
  
Gianna should have felt exposed. Nervous. Embarrassed. But when she saw the hunger behind those dark eyes studying her, she gave in to instinct. She crawled over him until she was straddling him over his pants. She crushed a hand into the bowl of dessert still nearby and smeared it over her breasts, neck, stomach, and lower.   
  
The growl that came out of Fen didn't sound human. His hands pressed into her back, keeping her in place as he dragged his tongue all over her body, licking and tasting, eating the sweet remnants. He sucked her fingers clean and after they left his mouth, still wet, Gia plunged them into her own mouth, moaning softly.   
  
He groaned, grabbing her and flipping her off his lap and onto the bed on her back. The dish of dessert fell to the floor with a forgotten clatter. Fen was sucking her nipple, moving hungrily along her body, making Gia arch and gasp. He moved lower, mouth hot against the under side of her breasts, down her stomach, before venturing to her womanly mound.   
  
Gianna couldn't focus on anything but the Nord hovering over her, threatening to devour her with his hungry mouth. His hands spread her legs and he gave one deep groan before leaning down to taste her nectar.   
  
A long caress from his tongue had her gripping the blankets. The feel of his tongue circling her most sensitive spot had her hips rising from the bed. Fen wrapped his hands under her thighs holding her in place as he continued to explore her folds with his tongue. He groaned as he lapped greedily at her opening.   
  
"Gods Gia, you taste delicious..."he moaned from between her thighs. She looked down her body watching him savor her the way he did her culinary creations. Muscular arms wrapped around her legs, auburn hair tickling her inner thighs. It was almost too much to bear.   
  
No one had ever done this to her. That talented tongue, tasting and teasing, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. She gripped a handful of thick auburn hair, grinding her hips against that insistent mouth. Soon she was moaning, rolling her hips, begging for release.   
  
"Please, Fen..." She struggled to speak, her voice thick and broken. His answering moan vibrated against her sex causing her hips to buck against his tight grip on her thighs. His ministrations to her clit never slowed and she was soon calling out his name as her climax swept her away.   
  
Fen continued to hold her, teasing her climax out as long as possible before moving up her body, stopping to taste the salty sheen covering her naked form. When he reached her face she grabbed his bearded cheeks in her hands and kissed him. She tasted herself in his tongue and it only fueled her desire more.   
  
His hips lined up with hers and he rubbed his hardness against her sex through his pants. She wrapped her legs around him and his eyes snapped into hers, searching, questioning.   
  
"I want to feel you," she panted against his mouth. He propped himself up and pulled his pants down enough to offer access to his throbbing length. He quickly lined himself up with her and then suddenly paused.   
  
B rown eyes stared into hers, dark with desire. He allowed the head of his cock to slide just past her slick folds before hesitating. He gently pushed a sweaty strand of black hair behind her ear, stroking her flushed face gently. His eyes never left her face as he pushed forward, filling her slowly and completely.   
  
Gianna cried out at the sudden intrusion. She'd never had anyone this large. Fen stopping immediately kissing softly at her face and neck.   
  
"Gia...Gia are you alright," he asked, voice strained.   
  
"Oh Fen," was all she managed, writhing beneath his body. The friction between them combined with her wet heat surrounding him driving him to grunt and bite down on her shoulder to keep from rutting into her mercilessly. Her offended cries only added to his desperate need.   
  
He tried an agonizingly slow movement out and back inside. He listened to the hitch in her breathing. He watched the way her mouth opened in a gasp. Soon he couldn't stop himself from quickening his pace.   
  
Fen drove into Gianna with a need he'd never felt before. He had known lust and desire but this need filled him with a profound ache. He sunk deeper into her warmth, needing to feel himself buried within her. His little chef. The woman he craved. Fen kissed her, moaning into her mouth as he felt his impending climax.   
  
Gianna was sweating and grunting, the feeling of being stretched and filled driving all other thought from her mind. There was only Fen and the fires he stoked within her body. Almost as hot as the one burning in her heart. She dug short nails into his back, clinging to his strong body as he let out a ragged broken cry. "Gia..."   
  
He remained deep inside her warmth as he filled her with his seed. He kissed her face, her hair, her neck, shoulders...anywhere he could reach. They lay there connected, gasping for breath, entwined with one another. When Fen finally laid beside her he pulled her to rest snugly with her back to his chest.   
  
He noticed the mark where he had bit back his frustration and frowned. It stood out like a bruise against her tanned skin. He lightly brushed it with a finger. "I'm so sorry Gia..."   
  
She gave a tired chuckle. "Is that normal for you?"   
  
"Nothing about me is normal. Especially not when I'm with you. You're....new to me," said Fen, nuzzling his face into her messy hair.   
  
"I find that hard to believe, Thane Murderer,” she teased.   
  
That made Fen laugh and it was a rich, sincere sound. He pulled her tighter as he body shook with laughter. "My Gia."

 


	6. The One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's more smut here. Fair warning.

The first thoughts Gianna had upon waking were that she was both sore and sticky. She allowed herself a moment to doubt that the night before had happened. Then a strong arm wrapped around her shoulders and she felt the heat of a man against her back. “Gia,” said Fen into her neck as he held her. 

“Good morning,” she said, unable to keep the smile out of her voice.

“You smell like honey,” he whispered, laughing softly into her hair. 

“I am sticky,” said Gia, laughing along with him. 

“Then follow me,” he said. He had lost his pants sometime during the night and when he walked away from the bedroom he was stark naked. She followed, not tearing her eyes away from the ass in front of her. Not only because it was shapely and nice, but also because of a giant scar on the right cheek. The tub was large and they both fit though there was some touching. Gianna couldn't stop giggling as she soaped up Fen in the tub. His body was so toned and she took her time exploring him thoroughly. 

“What happened here,” she asked, allowing her hand to linger near the scared ass cheek. “Looks vicious.”

The smile he gave her made her feel very uncomfortable. “Checking out my ass?”

Gianna blushed and forgot she had even asked a question. When it was Fen's turn, he washed her gently, paying special attention to all the areas where she had spread food on herself the previous night.

“I have never had a dessert quite like that you know,” grinned Fen as they were getting ready to leave the bath. 

“I like cooking for you,” said Gianna, feeling her cheeks flushing from something other than the heat of the bath. “I guess cooking is just really important to me. It's personal. Sharing something like that seemed intimate.”

“It got very intimate,” grinned Fen, standing up and grabbing towels for them. For a few brief moments he was naked and dripping wet in front of her. Gianna stood up, forcing herself to look away, and covered herself quickly with the towel.

“It did,” she agreed, hurrying to where she kept some clothes in the storage area. Argis was quick to vacate and she dressed and combed her hair before walking into the kitchen to start breakfast. 

Fen walked into the room wearing plain leather armor and carrying a packed knapsack. He smiled at her as he walked into the kitchen. “I need some food but I'm afraid to touch anything in your kitchen.”

“You're leaving,” she said, trying to keep the heartbreak out of her voice and failing miserably. “I mean, okay.” She started to gather some bread, cheese, and other produce for his trip. 

“My strength is back so I need to go and finish my business and help my family get back on its feet. I'm not sure how long I will need to be gone, but I will come and see you when I can,” Fen said.

“Be careful,” breathed Gianna. Fen walked slowly across the room his boots not even scraping the stone floor. He leaned down to kiss her softly on the lips, lingering longer than necessary. When he broke the kiss he pressed his forehead against hers.

“I will come home to you Gia,” he said, still pressed close against her. When he finally turned to walk she noticed he was carrying a large amount of luggage with him. That made sense, if he was going to deal with some family business, she supposed. She wished she didn't feel so shattered when the door closed behind him and left her in the house. 

In typical Gianna fashion, she found herself in the kitchen. She was finally going to try out some of the recipes she had found in the Gourmet's journal that Fen had gifted her. She had so many questions about the Gourmet but she was afraid to talk to Fen about them. He had killed the Gourmet, assumed his identity, and then poisoned the Emperor's body double. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear about his experiences with her professional idol. 

She had a complicated list of ingredients to make some of these adventurous recipes. As she read through the journal she got the impression these were some kind of dream recipes that the Gourmet had not yet tried. Gianna was feeling up to the challenge. She roused Argis to accompany her on her shopping trip. 

“Thanks for taking me out Argis. Maybe I can cook up some salmon for you tonight?” she said as they left the apothecary shop in Markarth, the Hag's Cure. 

“You know what I like Gianna,” he said, followed by a gruff chuckle. She laughed along with him as they followed the stone pathways down to the general store, Arnlief and Sons. There they loaded up with dry goods, fresh meats, and vegetables. 

“Do you know how long Fen will be gone?” she asked the burly housecarl as they walked up the winding steps to Vlindrel Hall. 

“If Fen doesn't tell me, I don't ask,” said Argis, his tone formal. 

“How long have you known Fen?”

He gave a short exhale. “A while.”

“How much do you know about the business he's on right now?” Gianna asked, using careful phrasing.

“Almost nothing. His business is not my business,” said Argis.

“Well, this has been an enlightening conversation,” she muttered as they entered the house. Gianna busied herself in the kitchen trying some of the strange new recipes. She tried out some oatcakes with a glaze of honey and ground ice wraith teeth that gave an almost cold sensation to the tongue. She made some notes she thought would improve the consistency and the cook time. She then worked out some puffy pastries filled with a sweet chicken mixture. They were definitely different but she wasn't sure it was something people would really want, having the sweetness and the saltiness. Although that idea got her thinking about her apple muffin recipe and how it might be improved with a honey drizzle topped with some finishing salts. 

By the time Argis cautiously entered the kitchen, the shelves were packed with baked goods and discarded dishes. Gianna smiled when he entered and pushed a plate toward him with a large half of bread hollowed out and filled with a thick, creamy sauce filled with chunks of salmon and mudcrab meat. “Oh, and this is for you as well,” she said, using a ladle to fill a goblet with simmering liquid. “Spiced wine!”

The housecarl brought the plate to the table and got to work eating, completely engrossed in his food and the wine. “This is better than Evette San's in Solitude,” he said, between long sips of the warm spicy liquid. 

Gianna just chuckled. “Evette has an amazing mixture, that's no question. But she produces on a large scale. She has to consider her bottom line before her craft. That's why she has to substitute some less expensive items. When she boils up a batch just for you, it's much better than what is bottled and sold under her label.”

“Friends with Evette San?” asked Argis, not complaining when she refilled his goblet again from a pitcher of the wine. 

“Yes, I have many friends in Solitude, and all over Skyrim. We cooks try to stick together,” she said, smiling. “And what about you? Do you have many friends? Is Fen your friend?”

“Fen is my Thane, but yes, he is a friend as well,” said Argis, drinking deeply. “We have traveled together and saved each other enough to call one another brother.”

“Where was your favorite place you traveled,” she asked, purposely avoiding asking too directly about Fen.

“The Throat of the World....” said Argis, his voice filled with reverence. 

“You climbed the tallest mountain in Skyrim?” she asked, considering what that meant. “With Fen?”

Argis' answer was just a grunt followed by draining his goblet. “You'll be sleeping in the master bed as long as he's gone I'm assuming. I'll be in my room if you need anything.”

“Are you a house servant? I don't know exactly what a housecarl is...”

“I guard Fen and everything he owns, with my life if necessary. When he's not at the house, I am guarding it for him. It wouldn't be that great of a guard if he got here and everything had gone to rot and skeevers were trashing up the place,” Argis said.

Gianna thought about that as she cleaned the kitchen. He was a warrior and had fought side by side with Fen. They had climbed mountains together. And when Fen wasn't home, Argis was here taking care of his treasures-including her. 

The nights were lonely sleeping in the large stone bed. Thinking about the night she'd spent with Fen wrapped in his arms and the woolen blankets. She kept her days full by running errands with Argis and cooking the recipes from the Gourmet's own handwriting. She bought her own empty journal to keep track of all of her additions and original recipes inspired from reading the genius cook's memoirs. After two weeks had gone by she was finally growing bored and decided she wanted to venture to Understone Keep for the first time in several years.

Gianna and Argis walked past the guards and saw a tall, handsome Altmer in Thalmor Robes, pacing about with two beautiful elven guards trailing his movements. They avoided the elves and went toward the kitchen instead. Gianna's stomach was tight as she peered in, afraid she would see the Breton man who had made her learning in Markarth so uncomfortable. 

“Voada,” she breathed when she saw the familiar face. Voada and her brother Rondach were Bretons who had worked alongside Gianna during her studies. They both had sun-kissed skin and light brown hair. Voada was wearing a tribal painted design on her face which was popular among Bretons in the Reach, not just the Forsworn. Anton Virane had been the head chef at Understone Keep while all three had been working and studying here. Anton had kept his hands off of Voada because of her brother's presence, but Gianna had not been so lucky. “It's so good to see you!” Gianna chirped. 

“Gianna?! It can't be,” said the Breton woman, wiping her hands on her chef's apron and moving to pull Gianna into a tight hug. “I can't believe you are here. We heard about Solitude and the Emperor's body double. What a fright. I was so worried for you. I heard they were going to take an ear?”

“They changed their mind,” Gianna lied, “I am between jobs right now but I am well. Don't worry about me,” she said, smiling before lowering her voice and leaning into Voada. “Where is Anton?”

“You didn't hear,” said Voada, her eyes going wide. “Dead. He was murdered right here in the kitchen. Rondach and I were in the pantry preparing the next day's ingredients before bed. By the time we woke up the next morning, he was already cold. Three dagger wounds to the chest.”

“By the Eight,” gasped Gianna. “Who?”

Voada dropped her voice conspiratorially low and gave a sly grin, “The Dark Brotherhood, they say.”

Gianna felt her body go cold. “How long ago did this happen?”

“Last month maybe,” said Voada. “It was the week before the poisoning in Solitude.”

A cry came from the pantry beside the Keep's kitchen and Rondach came out to hug Gianna. The three chatted about their jobs, accomplishments, and their happiness that Anton Virane was no longer among the living. Voada seemed distressed about some side jobs she was doing in the Treasury House. It seems the Silver-Bloods were having her cook for their own personal functions but Thonar Silver-Blood was behaving similar to the way Anton used to with Gianna.

“Please, don't say anything to Rondach. I remember how upset he was about Anton and I just don't want him going through that again,” said Voada sighing. “There's nothing that can be done really. Female cooks in Skyrim and other hired help just have to deal with advances when they come. I'm used to it by now. As long as he doesn't make a move to hurt me, I can handle a little unwanted attention.”

Gianna felt upset after she left her friends. Voada's story of Thonar was similar to her own memories of Anton. It started as unwanted flirtation. Then it evolved into uncomfortable touching. When he had finally asked her to come to his room for a private discussion, she felt helpless against his touches until he was forcing himself inside of her. Once it happened, it was easy to let it happen again and again. 

Anton's treatment left her feeling worthless and it continued for months. She knew if she stayed in Markarth she would be a bed-warmer more than a chef. Anton was piling most of the preparatory and cooking work onto the Breton siblings and keeping Gianna busy with his more base desires. She had written to inquire about positions at several places in Skyrim and was blessed when the Blue Palace had asked her to work under the chef there. Voada, it seemed, had replaced her as the target of Anton's unwanted affections. 

But Anton Virane was dead. People thought that the Dark Brotherhood was responsible. Perhaps Fen deserved some kind of thanks for that death, if it had been his daggers that made those stab wounds.

Days later, Gianna had cleared the table and was working hard on some bread dough. Kneading, beating, and throwing the large, floury mound was helping work through some of her frustrations. Would Fen ever come back? It had been weeks but it felt like even longer. She had given up watching the door for him. She had baked and cooked so much food that she was running out of cupboards to store the left overs. 

She hadn't heard the door open and she definitely hadn't heard anyone approach from behind but suddenly she felt a presence. She immediately grabbed one of her kitchen knives, kept razor sharp for chopping and dicing, and turned around to confront her assailant. 

“Uhh little chef,” said Fen, lifting his chin up away from the cooking knife now pressed to his throat. “Sorry Gia. I saw you standing there and I just couldn't resist coming to you...”

The knife hit the ground with a clatter as she threw her arms around Fen's neck and pulled herself against him. He found her lips and immediately set about devouring her, his tongue diving into the warmth of her mouth and drawing out a throaty moan from Gianna. 

He was wearing the same leather armor he had left wearing though there were some signs of damage, whether from normal use or fighting Gianna couldn't tell. She left behind floury hand prints as she pawed at the leather chest piece. Fen had shaved sometime after he left because his chin was covered with only the slightest bit of auburn stubble. Without the beard, several small scars were visible on his face, but Gianna found them intriguing, much like the man who wore them.

They were kissing, grinding together, and speaking volumes with their bodies despite having their mouths occupied elsewhere. Fen grabbed her ass and pushed her back onto the table, lifting her skirts as he did. He pulled away just long enough to pull her small clothes down her legs in a hurry. He quickly undid the leather chest piece and discarded it before undoing the laces on his leather pants. His member sprung free from its confines, already throbbing with need. He wasted no time leaning over her on the table and sliding his shaft along her damp lower lips. 

He paused, as though waiting for some sign from Gianna. She answered by raising her hips causing him to slip against the wet folds. Fen moaned, using his hand to guide himself slowly inside before thrusting forcefully to the hilt. There was nothing gentle about the way he began to move in and out of her on the flour covered table. Gianna was moaning and writhing, her plain dress getting ruined in the floury mess on the table. Fen's hands were gripping her hips, pulling her forcefully into him with each forward thrust. “Gia,” he groaned, leaning forward over the table to bite and kiss along her throat while he remained buried in her warmth. 

“Fuck me Fen,” she moaned, gripping his shoulders and driving her heels into his bare ass. The man didn't need any more encouragement. Gianna felt as though he might grind her into the stone table. The sound of moans and wet slapping sounds filled the entire house as Fen rutted against her with great need. Gianna reached her own hand down between them, giving the smallest touch to her own sensitive button. Fen pulled back watching as she quickly brought herself over the edge. 

The feeling of her walls gripping him tighter, her body rising from the table as she moaned through her climax had Fen suddenly nearing his own finish. A broken cry escaped his lips as he spent himself deep inside of the woman he craved. He kissed her sweaty face, prolonging their contact before he finally pulled away, feeling the sticky wetness left between her thighs and marveling at how gorgeous she looked. Face flushed, short black hair mussed and flour from the table coating her skin with a white powder. Fen had to laugh about the utter mess they had made.

“I'm sorry for the mess, Gia. But you have no idea how badly I needed that,” he said, helping her sit up on the table. “How badly I needed you.” 

She was smiling and glowing from her own orgasm. “I missed you too Fen.”

“You know we eat on that table,” came a gruff voice from the other room. Gianna's eyes went wide and met Fen's before they both started laughing. 

“Sorry Argis,” called Fen, though his grin was more smug than abashed. 

Gianna was so happy to have Fen back at home. She cooked a beautiful stew and served the fresh bread she had made. They sat up late into the night drinking wine and chatting with Argis. When the housecarl finally went to bed they moved to the bedroom where they continued to talk, drinking wine on the bed. 

“Did you kill Anton Virane?” she asked, her voice quiet as she peered over her shoulder to make sure Argis wasn't listening.

“You don't have to keep anything from Argis, by the way. And I don't know who that is,” Fen said.

“He was a chef here at Markarth. I studied under him for a while. My friend still works in the kitchen at the Keep and she said Anton was murdered by the Dark Brotherhood,” Gianna said.

“Ah,” said Fen, stopping to take a quick sip of wine. “Aye, I killed him.”

Gianna let his answer sink in. Not only the fact that he had killed the chef who had taught her but also the cavalier way that he said it. His answer was so cold and honest. There was no attempt to soften the blow or hide what he had done.

“Thank you,” said Gianna, taking a sip of her own wine. 

Fen's brow furrowed in confusion and his lips pursed as he looked over the Imperial woman sitting on his bed. “You're...welcome?”

“He was a horrible man. He was terrible to me, to Voada, to everyone really. I'm glad he's dead. So thank you,” she said.

“Terrible...how?” asked Fen, his tone deathly serious.

“Unwanted advances. He took advantage of my position as his apprentice and forced certain advances on me. I moved to Solitude to escape it and then my friend Voada became the object of his attentions. Many people are glad that he is gone.”

“Then I am happy he is dead. And even happier that it was my blade,” said Fen simply. 

“Are the majority of the people you kill bad people?” asked Gianna.

“What is a bad person?” asked Fen, his face curious as he watched her on the bed. 

“I don't know. Rapists, murderers...” she said.

“I'm a muderer,” said Fen, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes but, people that murder for fun or pleasure,” Gianna clarified.

“I murder for fun and pleasure,” said Fen, his voice dropping lower.

“Do you think you will ever stop being an assassin?” Gianna asked.

“Definitely not,” said Fen, turning his dark eyes on Gianna. “I have duties and obligations that will keep me in the Brotherhood until I die. And even that death will probably come during an assassination attempt gone horribly wrong,” he said giving a humorless chuckle.

“Don't say that,” said Gianna, looking at her glass and swirling the liquid around within the goblet.

“It's true. I never shy away from the truth,” said Fen.

“Do you have many lovers Fen?” asked Gianna, turning a challenging but calm gaze onto her companion. If he was as truthful as he claimed, maybe she could finally get some serious answers from the man.

“No,” he said simply, dark eyes meeting hers without flinching. 

“Are you, or have you ever been, married?” she asked.

“No,” he said, though he looked down and gave a sad sigh. “Almost. But she died.”

“Oh Fen, I am so sorry,” said Gianna, suddenly feeling horrible for having brought up something so personal and painful simply because she was insecure about their relationship. 

“She was my housecarl. She died in a....well, during a battle. After she was gone, I wasn't interested in women. But then I met another beautiful mercenary and we started a relationship. I admit, I wanted more with her, but she had another idea for her future.”

“Are you upset that you missed out on marrying her?” Gianna asked feeling a fear in the pit of her stomach.

Fen gave a hearty laugh at that thought. “No,” he said, smiling over at Gianna. “She is happy now and I am happy now. She would have had some strong opinions about my new choice in occupation, anyways.”

Gianna was quiet for several moments. This woman would have a problem with Fen being an assassin. What did that make her if she did not have a problem with it?

“What are you thinking,” asked Fen, eyes narrowing as he studied the Imperial. “Your eyes. You're thinking about something very intently.”

“I'm thinking maybe I should have a problem with your occupation too,” she said, finally.

“Do you?” he asked, his voice quiet.

“I accept you no matter what you are,” Gianna replied, just as quietly. 

Gianna stared down at the blankets for some time before risking a look at Fen. Dark eyes bore into hers from across the bed. “Thank you, Gia.”

The mood was so serious that they both became very quiet and eventually set their goblets down and curled up in the bed holding one another. Fen was gently stroking her hair, his body flush against hers, warm and comforting. Gianna had just realized something that made her suddenly uncomfortable in the bed with Fen. She loved him. She was horrified when it dawned on her that she accepted him and wanted him and loved him. He was a killer. He had ruined her life. He had rescued her. He had given her something better than her previous life here in his arms. She loved him. 

She was slightly disappointed in herself. She should not be with someone dangerous and dark that she didn't even know. She was irritated that she had abandoned her life long career for a man. She was frightened about what this could mean for her current situation. What would happen to her if she told Fen her thoughts now?

Fen started to breathe, deep and even, against her hair. Before sleep could claim her, she sent up a small prayer to Mara asking her for the strength if she was truly to love such a man. It was becoming increasingly clear that Fen, no matter all of his flaws, was the one for her.


	7. The Listener

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut Warning

The next morning she woke up early, as usual, and began a fresh batch of sweet rolls, just for Fen. If cooking was the way she showed her affection, then a sweet roll was a definite 'I love you.' She had just glazed the first batch when she heard Argis arguing with someone in the entrance way to Vlindrel Hall. 

The man who walked into the kitchen was wearing motley including fancy boots and a hat with two drooping points. He took a look at Gianna holding the sweet rolls and began to squeal with delight.

“Cicero is hungry! Cicero wants a sweet roll,” said the man standing at a height with Gianna with flame red hair and cold amber eyes. The smile plastered on his face never seemed to reach his eyes. He looked dangerous. He looked calculating. He took a sweet roll and began eating it, moaning obscenely at every bite.

Fen came into the room during the middle of the scene. “Cicero, wait outside,” he said sternly.

“Oh yes, Cicero will wait at the door! Whatever you say, Listener,” said the jester, taking the sweet roll as he walked to the door. Fen was sliding a plain woolen shirt over his black and red armor. The same armor he had worn when he came for Gianna in the dungeon. 

“Leaving so soon,” Gianna asked Fen, though a cold weight settling in her stomach told her she already knew the answer. 

“My business with my family is almost complete. Then I will be back Gia. Soon,” said Fen, walking close to her holding a full knapsack in the other hand. 

“But you just got back...”

“It's only for a few days,” he said, leaning in for a kiss but meeting only her cheek. “I don't like leaving you...”

“Be careful,” breathed Gianna. It was the only thing she could say. She loved him and she needed him to come back. She didn't want him to leave because she didn't want him to leave ever. 

“Sorry about Cicero,” said Fen, as he started to walk away. 

“I was afraid of him. But if he's a friend of yours...”

“No Gia. You should be afraid of Cicero. Very afraid,” he said, turning to walk away. Gianna just watched, not knowing what to say and feeling a twisting in her stomach. Fen kept frightening company. Fen was frightening. 

And now she was left alone again. That was frightening.

Gianna fell back into her work on the Gourmet's notes. She questioned whether she was costing too much in ingredients but Argis only laughed and said Fen had given her an unlimited budget. Gianna wondered how Fen could claim unlimited funds, but she still tried to keep her spending down. 

During one of her afternoons walking with Argis, she heard a sound like broken crying coming from under one of the stone bridges. She rushed to the sound and was shocked to see Voada. The front of her dress was covered in blood where her thighs met. 

“Argis, get to Understone Keep. Go to the kitchen and tell Rondach to come to Vlindrel,” ordered Gianna, wrapping an arm around her friend and helping her walk toward the stairs to Fen's house.

Gianna tended to her friend before the men arrived back at the house. Voada's wrists and ankles were bruised and bloody from restraints and she was bleeding profusely where Thonar and his goons had forced their way on her. The ordeal lasted over an entire day before she was released and told to keep quiet under threat of death. Voada hadn't even been able to walk, the pain to her insides was too intense. It was a blessing from the gods that Gianna and Argis happened upon her when they did. 

Some healing potions, a nice bath, and soup had Voada in better health, though she was still very shaken. Rondach was sick about his sister being in pain but Voada put on a strong front to comfort her brother. She sent him home and decided to stay in the house with Gianna for the night. They shared the master bed. 

“Gianna,” whispered Voada after both women were tucked into the bed in the warm darkness. Gianna gave a noise indicating she had heard. “Can I tell you a secret?” Gianna propped herself up on her elbows and nodded at her friend. “I performed the Black Sacrament. My entire savings should cover the cost. I'd give all of it and more to see that fucker dead.”

“But, that's the Dark Brotherhood. You don't want to mess with them, Voada,” said Gianna, though she felt false for saying it. She was messing with the Dark Brotherhood. How could she judge Voada?

“I won't live if he lives,” said Voada. “Because next time, I will fight back.” Gianna felt sick long after Voada had gone to sleep. 

The next morning, Gianna made some apple muffins, but she also used some of her limited alchemical knowledge to add a special ingredient. Chefs were trained to identify poisonous plants and ingredients. Mainly this is to keep them from experimenting or cooking with something that could kill those eating the food. Some ingredients were only poisonous at certain levels. Using this knowledge, Gianna could identify some poisonous ingredients and mixing them together created something ugly. Something deadly. She put a small amount of the poison in a creamy glaze for the breakfast treats. She corked the rest and stored it in the alchemy alcove, careful to label it as dangerous. 

Once Voada was up and dressed, Gianna pulled her aside and handed her the small basket of muffins. “Make sure no one but Thonar eats these muffins, Voada. Do you understand?”

The woman looked afraid as she met Gianna's eyes but she nodded her understanding and left carrying the parcel. Gianna felt nervous all day. It made for some furious baking. She didn't want to think about Voada, hurt and afraid. She didn't want to think about Fen, wherever he was. She didn't want to think about the consequences for murdering one of the Silver-Blood family. 

The news came in days later. Thonar had taken a sudden illness and died. There was currently an investigation into how many of his employees were funding and promoting the Forsworn rebellion. There was no mention of any suspicion of foul play. Gianna had wanted to visit Voada and celebrate, but she felt that would not be appropriate behavior for an innocent woman. Instead, she worked on her recipes, cooked for Argis, and walked through the city of stone. 

She returned from a walk one evening to find that Fen was back at Vlindrel. Her heart immediately jumped into her throat. She rushed to find her beloved, leaving Argis behind. Fen was sitting wearing his house clothes, a loose shirt and woolen pants. The look on his face when Gianna entered was so new and strange she froze in her steps. The warmth and desperation of their last reunion was gone, replaced with a cold, suspicious glare. 

“Fen,” she said, stepping tentatively closer to where he was sitting near the cook fire. He stood up and took a step toward the bedroom, away from Gianna. 

She let him go, not knowing what else to do. She couldn't help wondering if she had done something to displease him, but she couldn't begin to imagine what it could have been. The house was clean, the cooking was done, and she hadn't been too exuberant on her spending in the market. Argis had said she was given an unlimited budget. The only thing she had done that may warrant him to be upset had to do with the poisoned apple muffins she had concocted. But there was no way on Nirn he could possibly know about that...

Gianna wondered as she cooked dinner and mulled some spiced wine. Maybe something else bad had happened to his family? She imagined that he had been dealing with more death or betrayal. Perhaps he had to finish a murder that hadn't gone easily. There were so many things that could be upsetting Fen that she didn't even know where to start. She felt sad about how little she actually did know about the man. He always warned her away from questions. 

Dinner was a beautiful seared slaughterfish with a garlic tomato sauce she had concocted from one of the recipes in the Gourmet's journal. Gianna had made quite a few alterations, but as everyone began to eat in stunned silence she decided the changes worked. Fen's chilly mood melted slightly as he ate the meal, drinking deeply from the wine. 

“This wine is my favorite thing that you make,” said Argis, filling himself another large goblet. 

“It's hard for me to choose a favorite, there's so many. But it's definitely not the apple tarts,” said Fen, not looking at Gianna, and his tone so casual it could just be a statement. Gianna's hair stood on end. She had poisoned Thonar's apple tarts. Why did she have a horrible feeling that Fen knew? How was that even possible?

Fen retired to his room after dinner and Gianna stayed to clean up the kitchen and table. Argis went out to the inn for drinks. Everything was done for the night and Gianna poured the last of the spiced wine into a pitcher and grabbed two clean goblets. She looked at Fen sitting up in his bed, reading by candle light. He was dressed for bed, wearing his usual loose fitting pants with his chest bare. His beard had grown out slightly in the time he was gone. His auburn hair was getting longer than she had ever seen it. It got wavy when it was long, landing in fiery curls below his ears. She wanted to wrap one of those curls around her finger so badly it hurt. 

She took a deep breath and forced her feet to walk into the master bedroom area. Fen looked up over a book, arching an eyebrow at Gianna as she sat down on the edge of the bed near him. “Mind if I sit in here for a while?” She was still holding the goblets and pitcher of wine.

Fen stared at her, dark eyes giving nothing away as he met hers. After several silent moments he sighed and shrugged at her, putting down the book. “Please, make yourself comfortable,” he said. He politely took one of the goblets and held it out patiently as she poured for both of them before setting the pitcher aside. 

“There was some wine left and it felt like a shame to waste it,” she said, as though that was an excuse for coming into his room. He hadn't said much to her since he returned. She wanted to give him space. She didn't know what had happened while he was gone. But she also couldn't help her own feelings. The man she had discovered she loved was now keeping his distance. 

“The wine truly is delicious,” said Fen, taking a drink. “It was a nice welcome back to the house.”

“I was hoping to get to welcome you properly,” said Gianna, her voice a low whisper. Her heart was beating so fast she couldn't believe she had found the courage to say something so brave. Fen looked equally surprised and made no response until she moved closer on the bed to run a single finger down the middle of his chest, bare and dusted with auburn hair. 

“Gia,” he said, and it sounded like a prayer. That sound told her all she needed to know. There was still an energy between then, a tension they couldn't deny. Yet Fen was pulling away from her touch, frowning and not meeting her eyes. 

“Is something wrong Fen?” she asked, leaning closer to him while making sure not to tip over her wine. She had already had a couple glasses and was feeling very warm. Especially considering how close she was to the object of her desires. 

“We need to talk Gianna,” he said. She stopped cold at the usage of her full name. Nothing was going the way she had hoped. Fen was back and something was very wrong. Gianna was inexperienced with relationships but anytime someone needed to talk it was never about something good. She knew he was an assassin, and a Thane. What else was he going to tell her? 

By the gods, she did not want this right now. She didn't want this at all. And the way he was tight lipped and forcing himself not to look at her – she didn't think he wanted this either. She reached out gently with the hand that wasn't holding her wine goblet and touched the pads of her fingers to his chest, right over his heart. Fen stiffened at the touch, not looking at her, but she could feel his heart pounding. Chest rising. The heat radiating from the man. He wanted her too, but he was trying to push her away. 

She stared into his face, daring him to meet her eyes. “Fen,” she said, tone harsher than before. “We can talk later.” The statement made him ball his hands into fists on the bed, still refusing to meet her eyes. Gianna's lips went flat in frustration. She took her goblet of wine and carefully dripped out a stream of the warm, spicy liquid onto his chest. 

Fen gasped and looked at Gianna. Finally, his eyes were on hers, demanding an explanation. The only answer she gave was to lean forward and trace her tongue down the wet trail the wine had left. The drip traveled down his stomach there where a fine trail of auburn hair led down into his loose pants. She then started her way back up, licking everywhere the residue could be found, feeling his chest and stomach rise with each ragged breath. The rising lump in his pants made it clear that he didn't dislike the attention. 

Gianna repeated the motion, starting higher up and then licking and kissing the trail of warm wine off of his collar bone, chest, and finally where it pooled on his stomach. “Lay back,” she whispered, pushing a gentle hand against his chest. She was slightly surprised when he obeyed her command, setting his own goblet aside and laying back on the stone bed, watching her with eyes bloomed with lust. 

She poured a larger amount on his stomach and grinned as he sucked in from the sudden warmth. She then lapped the liquid up like a cat, enjoying the way his skin added its own salty tang to the spicy wine. His neck was craning to look and watch her as she worked over his stomach. She moved on the bed until she was laying beside him, hand lazily tracing up and down the damp hairs on his stomach. When her face was against his she took a small sip of the wine and leaned in to press her lips against his. When Fen opened his mouth against hers he moaned as she shared her wine with him directly. Their kiss deepened into something more, Fen grabbing her face and tasting her mouth. 

He gave a frustrated noise when she pulled away and began kissing down his chest once again, not stopping until she was at the waistline of his pants. She looked up into his dark eyes as she pulled the fabric down and his erection was freed. She carefully teased her tongue up his length from the base to the tip, then swirled her tongue over his slit. Fen's moan was deep and resonated deep within her core. He leaned his head back, eyes closing as she worked her mouth over every inch of him. Gianna was enjoying his breathy reactions. She reached to set the goblet safely on the ground, off of the bed, and then took his shaft in her hand as she continued to wrap her lips around him. 

Gianna couldn't get enough of the way he tasted, clean and manly. He must have bathed before she and Argis had arrived back because he smelled faintly of soap, but his natural male musk was the most dominant scent. Gianna concentrated on taking him deeper into her throat, listening to his reaction and repeating anything that he seemed to like. She focused on pleasing him, loving the way he writhed and groaned under her attentions. Soon he lost what amount of control he had and grabbed the back of her head, grunting as he thrust his hips off the bed and down her throat. She gagged and pulled away, a string of saliva connecting them as he looked at her worried.

“Are you okay Gia?” he asked through gulps for air. 

She answered by lowering her mouth back over him as far as she was able, her fingers gripping the base and moving along with her bobbing motion. She worked him in a rhythm that was manageable for her and seemed to be driving him closer and closer to the edge. Fen's moan became a constant sound, growing louder even as the sloppy sound of her wet mouth on him became more prevalent. Soon he was talking incoherently and gripping her hair again. His thighs tensing and his fingers digging into her scalp were the warning for what followed.

Gianna continued to work him as he spilled down the back of her throat. She drank down every last drop, eyes closed as she savored the taste of her lover. She milked anything she could and licked him clean before finally pulling away and daring a look up at Fen. His face was covered with a slight sheen of sweat, lips open and eyes darker than she'd ever seen them. He sat up and pulled her close, crushing his mouth against hers. Gianna hesitated, knowing that she tasted heavily of his seed, but if Fen was determined to explore her mouth with his tongue she would not deny him. Possibly he loved the taste as much as she did. 

She cleaned up the wine, slipped out of her dress and into a night gown, and crawled into bed next to a warm, satisfied Fen. He wrapped his body around hers as they lay there in silence for several minutes, Fen stroking her face and hair, softly kissing at the back of her neck and along the outside of her ear. “Why did you do it Gia?”

Gianna gave a shy smile and was glad her back was to Fen so he couldn't see her blushing. “I wanted to taste you. I wanted to please you. Show you how much I missed you while you were gone.”

The broken moan that came from Fen followed by a tightening of his arms around her body made her heart leap into her throat. “You are amazing Gia. But that wasn't what I was referring to.”

Gianna's head was still fuzzy from the wine and the sex. Her own desire was still coursing through her veins, humming in her ears, making it difficult to concentrate on what Fen was saying. “What do you mean then?”

“Why did you kill Thonar,” he whispered the question so close to her ear, his breath causing her to inhale sharply as a wave of need washed over her body. Then the realization of what he had said sunk in and her hot skin was suddenly clammy and the shiver that followed had nothing to do with her state of arousal. 

“How do you know?” she asked.

“Mother told me,” Fen replied.

“But how did she...”

“It is my duty, within the Dark Brotherhood. I hear the words from our holy matron, the Night Mother. She is the leader of our family. She hears all the prayers of her children,” said Fen.

“The Listener...” she whispered, the strange words Cicero had said coming back to her as she listened to Fen describe his role within the Brotherhood.

“Why Gia, I need to know,” said Fen, his voice taking on a sterner tone though it was more of a gentle coaxing than anger. Gianna heard more sorrow in that tone.

“Voada. He raped Voada. She was working for him part time providing additional food staff at the Treasury House. She told me weeks ago that things were progressing beyond what she was comfortable with. She was scared for her job and her life. She didn't want her brother to know. She was afraid of what he would do, and what it would cost him. After I found her in that state, broken down and bleeding, I decided to help her.”

“Yes, but she had already performed the Black Sacrament,” said Fen.

“I know, she told me.”

“She told you about the Sacrament and still you murdered the man?” he asked, raising his voice slightly.

“If the Dark Brotherhood was going to have to kill him, that could mean you would have to kill him. I thought I could save you the trouble,” said Gianna.

Fen gave a humorless chuckle against her hair. “Save me the trouble? You have given me an entirely new problem, Gia. I rushed straight here when Mother told me. I had to get to you and rectify the situation before it went further.”

“You kill people,” said Gianna, brow wrinkling in confusion. “Why do you have such a problem with me killing someone? He deserved it Fen! More than some people you've killed, I'm sure.”

“I am not upset that you killed someone,” said Fen, pushing himself up on an elbow and moving over her so he could look down into her green eyes. “I don't care about that at all. You're right. He did deserve it.”

“Then I don't understand...”

“Gia, you stole a Dark Brotherhood contract. That...doesn't make Mother very happy. And it makes it my job to make sure we are repaid in kind. A life for a life.”

Gianna's eyes went wide with fear. “My life?”

Fen kissed her, soft and gentle, his hand moving to gently stroke her cheek. “Not your life Gia. I pray to all the gods it never comes to that. I am not sure I would be able to allow it.” He sighed heavily, pressing his forehead against hers. “Could you kill someone again Gia? On command?”

“Whose command,” she asked, feeling cold despite the closeness of her lover. 

“Mine,” breathed Fen.

She took a deep breath, considering what he had said. He didn't move, their faces a breath apart. “Yes,” she answered, and he kissed her again. Holding her close and stroking her hair until they were both fast asleep.


	8. The Accomplice

The next afternoon they were riding out of Markarth with a light pack and a basket of special boiled cream tarts. They were making the short ride along the road to get to the Old Hroldan Inn. Gianna enjoyed the scenic ride through the Reach. The afternoon sun had burned away the fog and everywhere she looked she could see distant waterfalls and scenic ruins spread out among the craggy peaks. It almost felt like they were two lovers out for a romantic holiday. 

Then she would look ahead at Shadowmere's glowing black eyes and remember that they weren't on vacation. They were on their way to kill someone. 

Fen had explained the whole thing to her in language she could understand. She had stolen a contract, and now she could repay the debt by completing another contract for the Brotherhood. It was a simple transaction. She spent all morning making some boiled cream tarts and had worked the same poison she had used on Thonar into the sauce. She used twice as much, not wanting to risk any mistakes with this assassination.

Fen was calm, wearing his leather armor she'd seen him in before, but not the black and red armor of the Dark Brotherhood. He walked Shadowmere at a comfortable pace, smiling when Gianna would tighten her arms around him or nuzzle her head against his back between his shoulder blades. He enjoyed spending time with Gianna and he knew she was grateful to be out of her stone prison for a while. 

“What did this person do to deserve to die?” she had asked Fen.

“It doesn't matter,” was his only reply. She had to agreed. She was going to kill because Fen had asked her to kill. She found that she didn't even feel that guilty about it. That was a little frightening that her love had her rethinking the importance of murder. Fen was an Assassin. He killed people for money. Other people were soldiers, killing for money or beliefs. Some were mercenaries, killing for money. There was probably some overlap of soldiers, mercenaries and assassins who enjoyed their work and was that really a crime? These were necessary professions. If there was no need for assassins, the Brotherhood wouldn't receive so many contracts. Gianna found solace in the fact that she did not really enjoy ending lives, but she could do it. She had proven that in Markarth.

Gianna, the meek cook, had blossomed into Gianna the outlaw chef. She couldn't find any room to be angry at the turn of luck when she was riding behind the man who held her heart. Once this contract was complete, she planned to tell him about her feelings. He deserved to know. Gianna felt sure the feelings were not one sided and that Fen would share her love. Perhaps they could discuss a future together. 

That nagging voice in her head rose up in the background of her mind. Why would a Thane marry a cook? Thanes might fuck the help but they didn't marry them. But Fen had said she wasn't his employee. He had saved her life and he continued to come home to her, spending all of his time caring for her and learning about her. She had to overcome that niggling self doubt. She knew in her heart he cared for her deeply. She just needed to know how deep. 

They made it to Old Hroldan at sunset. It was relatively close to Markarth. The inn was chosen because that's where the target was currently staying. Gianna was wearing a modest dress of green wool with a fox skin trim around her neckline. They walked into the Inn and inquired about a room. The innkeeper, a middle-aged Nord woman named Eydis, announced that they were renting the room that Tiber Septim supposedly had slept in ages ago. The bed in the room looked ready to collapse, lending some credit to the theory.

The common room was empty when they arrived, save for the innkeeper and her young son. The child had impressed Gianna with his maturity, though it also made her slightly sad. The poor child was forced to grow up sooner than others. He had eyed the basket of treats she had longingly, and she was quick to hide them away from his eyes. She felt guilty at the grief stricken expression on his young face. He resembled a sad puppy. 

Gianna and Fen dined at the inn and the food was terrible. The stew obviously reheated for several days, with a sheen of fat across the top, and too much pepper to mask the flavor of meat past its prime. Gianna struggled to keep herself composed. She longed to march to the cook fire and rectify the situation but they were low key. She couldn't draw unnecessary attention to herself. That wouldn't be very assassiny.

Fen had pointed out the mark with a simple movement of his eyes. “The rogue wizard,” he said. Gianna looked over at the man that had entered the room and taken a seat at an empty table in the corner. He was older, wearing a robe, and seemed engrossed in some type of journal he was reading. She felt neutral about his very existence. Someone wanted this soul dead and if she didn't do the deed, a different Brotherhood assassin would, and she would be killed as well as repayment for Thonar. 

The innkeeper began doing an inventory and left the room for the cellar momentarily. Without prompting from Fen, Gianna stood up and retrieved the basket of tainted treats from their double room. She crept it into the room the wizard had been using. She set two of the treats on the nightstand and crept quickly out of the room. The wizard had not even glanced away from his book. 

They stayed in the common room drinking mead and talking about silly things. Fen was asking all about her years as a student. Hearing about the hilarious novice mistakes she had made while learning how to catch and butcher her own meat. She also reminisced about the first time she had successfully gotten a souffle to rise properly. Eventually, the wizard went into his room and locked the door. The pair retired to their room. 

“That wasn't even that hard,” said Gianna, not sure if she was disappointed or not. “This means I am clear of my obligation?”

“As long as he dies tonight,” said Fen. “I will check before we go to sleep. Once he's a confirmed corpse, you are free of your obligation. Though, you know, after I paid back a kill, I was offered a position in the family. I would offer you one as well. If you thought that was the path you wanted to take.”

“I don't think it is,” said Gianna, settling onto Tiber Septim's bed wearing her night gown. Fen joined her shortly. 

“What do you want to do Gia? I promised you when you first came with me that I would help get you set up wherever you wanted to go. What do you want?” He slid into bed beside her, kissing her shoulder through her gown.

“I want to cook,” she said, staring at the ceiling and considering the question. “I wouldn't mind publishing my own cook book. Maybe I could be the new Gourmet,” she said, sighing wistfully. Fen laughed and pulled her close to him in the bed.

“You make a much sexier Gourmet that's for sure,” he said, kissing along the back of her neck.

“What was the Gourmet like?” she asked. She'd been afraid she would be sad to hear about her idol's demise, but she felt like she could finally handle the truth.

“He was an Orc,” said Fen, making her snort out loud with laughter. 

“When we first met, you asked me if it was an Orc! Because the Gourmet was an Orc??” she was gaping, her tone incredulous.

“Aye,” said Fen and she could hear the smile in his voice. “He was a sad case, waiting at an Inn for a royal summons from the Emperor. He wasn't talking to anyone. Very loyal to his employer it would seem. He didn't want to give away his secret identity. I found out from your old friend Anton actually. He knew the Gourmet.”

“Anton never told me he knew the Gourmet!” she said, though she realized the man had not taught her much of anything. He had some good kitchen tips but mostly he was only interested in giving her one tip. Repeatedly. In every orifice. She pushed that thought out of her mind.

“Well, he did, and it allowed me to find him at the Nightgate Inn and slip a dagger between his ribs. Then I dumped him in a lake. After I stole his writ of course. The Gourmet is dead; long live the Gourmet!” She had her back to Fen but she could feel him smiling behind her.

“You did make a sexy Gourmet. You barely fit in that chef's outfit, I remember thinking it would rip off of your muscular body at any moment.”

“You were thinking about my body there in the kitchen when we first met?” he asked, and Gianna just remained quiet, blushing. “I was thinking about yours too. You reached down to get some ridiculous ingredient I had told you to use,” he chuckled at the memory. “By the gods woman, you added a septim!!!”

“I thought you were the Gourmet,” she huffed. “The weird thing is, that potage with your nonsensical ingredients was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted.”

“You are the most delicious thing I have ever tasted,” said Fen, brushing her short black hair away from her neck and trailing light kisses down her throat and shoulder in the bed. He was tugging her nightgown lower as he moved. “If you want to be a chef again Gia, I can get you a new position. Anywhere you want.”

“There's only one place I would want to cook,” she said, turning over in bed until she was facing Fen. She reached a hand up and gently stroked along his stubble covered jawline. “Wherever you are.”

Fen gave a contented sigh before pulling her close and kissing her slowly and softly as though she were some precious, breakable treasure. He undressed her in the bed and took his time, feeling her body, enjoying the swell and curves of her features in the low lamp light. He continually returned to her lips, drawing out each kiss before going back to admiring her body. “You are so beautiful Gia. I don't deserve you.”

Gianna had never thought of herself as anything special looks wise, but she thought Fen was the most handsome man she had ever seen up close. The fact that he was saying these things and looking at her body this way made her heart sing. He loved her. Only love could make him see beauty where there was only a common girl. 

During all of their couplings, Gianna had never known Fen to be a patient lover. That night, he took his time, stroking her body, listening to her noises, and touching her just right. He brought her to a shuddering orgasm using only his fingers, lightly dancing over her folds as he watched her face, teasing her nipples, keeping her on the edge until she was begging for release. When he finally took her he was maddeningly slow about grinding his chiseled form on top of her sweat covered body. He held her face and kissed her deeply while pushing every inch of himself deeper and deeper inside of her. 

Gianna could barely stand the slow torture of his love making. She started to pant, her tone pleading as she asked for him to go harder, faster, deeper. The begging only drew out deep groans from Fen as he continued to fill her with each up stroke. He snaked one hand between their body to lightly brush against her sensitive nub and had her inhaling sharply. It wasn't long until Gianna's orgasm had her clamping down tighter on his length inside of her. 

When his thrusts finally became less composed, he was groaning against her ear. Gianna clung to him with her last ounce of strength, kissing his tense neck and jaw. He moaned her name as he finally finished, buried inside of her. They kissed and stroked one another for several minutes before he even withdrew from her warmth. 

“I want to be with you, Gia,” he whispered as they lay close together before falling asleep in Tiber Septim's old bed. “No matter what happens, I need you to know that, I'm yours.”

“Mine...” she exhaled, not even believing she'd heard it correctly. She fell asleep thinking she'd never been as happy as she was there in his arms. 

Morning came too soon and before they left, Fen cast another spell to detect life and found the room of their target was empty though still locked from the inside. He was able to unlock and make a quick view and saw the robed figure slumped over in bed, a suspicious pastry with several bites missing had rolled under the bed after the man dropped it. Fen said it was a job well done.

Gianna had insisted that he gather the treats. It wasn't just to hide evidence, but she also dreaded what would happen if the innkeeper's son came upon one of the pastries. “You might make a good assassin yet,” he said, smiling at her thoroughness.

They rode quickly on their strange black horse and arrived in Markarth in time for lunch. Gianna was laughing and promising to whip up something quick since they were both staving. Argis met them at the door and his face was even more serious than usual. Fen saw his housecarl and immediately led the man into a side room for privacy. 

Gianna busied herself in the kitchen and made some quick sandwiches with cheese lettuce and some chicken she cooked over the fire. She could hear hushed words coming from the other room, but the hissing of the meat sizzling drowned it out. Once she brought the meal to the men, they were in the middle of a staring contest. Neither man so much as glanced at her as she served the meal and brought some cold ales. 

“What has happened, Fen?” Gianna asked. After their trip together she felt there was no reason for any more hiding. They were going to be together for a while, and it was about time she started getting the answers to the questions Fen had said she didn't want to know.

“There has been a message. The rebellion is pushing ahead while the Empire is confused, restructuring after the death of Titus Mede II,” he turned her dark eyes on her for a moment. “I'm being called to serve.”

“What? Why would anyone want to call you to a war? You're an assassin not a warrior,” she said, confused. 

“You asked me before if I was a Talos worshiper. The truth is I am. And I support Ulfric Stormcloak. With my sword, when necessary. It seems that is going to be necessary,” said Fen. Gianna's mouth was open as she stared. 

“You are going to war?” she asked, not even believing it. She took a seat at the table and looked at the food and table settings. Anything to avoid looking at those dark eyes.

“I am, Gia. But when I come back, I want you to be here...” Fen's tone was almost pleading.

“How long?” she asked. 

“That's unknown. The holdings are almost equally divided. If the war goes in Ulfric's favor, the Stormcloaks could be marching on Solitude by the end of the year.”

“End of the year?” she asked, bringing a hand up to clutch her throat. She had a strange feeling like she couldn't breathe. “I don't...but you...what am I supposed to do now...”

“Nothing has to change Gia. You can stay here. I am leaving Argis with you,” he said, bringing an angry grunt from the housecarl. Gianna looked from Argis to Fen and back again. Gianna surmised that they must have been arguing because Argis wanted to go to war with Fen. Argis supported this idea of Fen going to war. Argis was angry at her for holding him back. She let that realization sink in for a moment.

“But I thought...” Gianna's statement trailed off as she lost her voice.

“Nothing has to change. My feelings for you haven't changed. I will be back, I promise you,” said Fen, standing up from the table.

Fen was packing up and ready to leave within the hour. He had packed a large amount of gear and was wearing the plain leather armor she had seen him wear on other occasions. Gianna hoped it would be enough if he was going to be fighting in a war. 

Before he left, Fen held her close, kissing her head. Gianna was crying as silently at possible, pushing her face into his leather armored chest. He would come back. How many lives had the war already cost and it hadn't even begun? Fen was an assassin, and he had to be skilled to have killed the Emperor, but an assassin is not a warrior. “I love you,” she whispered as he finally pulled away from her. 

The admission caused him to sweep her up anew, kissing her as though he might never see her again. Gianna tried not to think about he implications of such a kiss.

Once he was gone, Gianna flung herself into the kitchen, sobbing as she worked dough. Argis was angry, he had retired to his chambers far earlier than usual. When Gianna looked in to check on the housecarl, she saw the locked chest was flung open. 

Gianna walked in and peeked into the chest. It was empty. Fen must have taken whatever was in the chest before he left. She walked into the room and looked at Argis sitting on his stone bed. If he wasn't so strong and frightening, she would have said he was pouting. 

“I am sorry Argis. I do not want him to go alone either,” she said, reaching out towards the man who seemed so tortured. 

“You don't get it, Gianna. I am his sworn shield. It is my duty to protect him and he is going to war. Without me. I am not angry that he is going, I am angry that he is going without me. He dishonors me by leaving me here to watch after you when I should be fighting with him, back to back,” Argis was frowning and clenching his powerful fists. “He is risking his safety for you. I disagree with his decision. No offense to you.”

“None taken,” she said, though it came out as a broken sob. She ran to the master bedroom, threw herself on the bed before remembering it was stone. She hit with a sickening thud which only made her cry harder as she wondered if her nose would be bruised. 

Fen was gone and without Argis to guard him, he may never return. It was all her fault. She didn't know how to fix the situation. Instead, she cried herself to sleep, ignoring the sounds of Argis drinking heavily in the kitchen alone. 

When Gianna awoke, her eyes puffy and face red, she had a moment of clarity when she realized what she needed to do. Fen had gone to war, there was no stopping that. But there was no reason he couldn't take Argis with him. If Argis had nothing to guard in Markarth. It was time to leave, if she truly wanted to protect Fen.

“May I have some gold. I need to go shopping,” said Gianna, her face red and eyes raw from so much crying.

“I don't feel like going out right now,” said Argis, giving her an insolent stare.

“Good, I wasn't inviting you,” Gianna shot back. The housecarl frowned and narrowed his eyes, but he reached into his nightstand and threw a bag of gold at her feet. 

“Don't get lost. Don't piss anyone off,” he said before going back to looking at the wall and ignoring her existence. 

She agonized for a few minutes about what she should bring. She couldn't truly bring herself to claim any of the fine clothing Fen had provided her as her own. She would never dream of filching any of his valuables, potions, or ingredients. That left only the books Fen had gifted her and the journal where she kept her own notes. Her only possessions in this world.

Gianna packed up some clothes and food before she left with the bag of gold. She made sure there was enough to hire a carriage. Before she left, she went into Fen's room to borrow parchment and quill. She penned a quick note to Argis begging him to go to Fen and protect him during the war. Gianna would not deny him the protection of his housecarl. Argis was a powerful warrior and his assistance could mean the difference between life and death for Fen. Gianna wrote that she was going home to her parents in Cyrodiil. She wrote that she would be safe and could receive messages via an imaginary contact and address. If Argis and Fen believed she was safe, the housecarl had no reason not to join in the fighting with his Thane.

She started to write another letter to Fen, but all she managed to pen was a quick Dear Fen, I love you, followed by a deluge of tears falling on parchment and blurring ink. She gave up and folded the single letter and left it in the kitchen where Argis would no doubt look for her first.

Before she quit the beautiful city of stone where she had lived these last months, she made a quick stop at the Shrine of Talos. She left a handful of coins as well as a sweet roll she had baked. She prayed to Talos for the first time in her life, asking that he watch out for her Fen and bring victory to the Stormcloak Army. 

When she hit the carriage, she paid for a ticket far away. She loved Fen and needed him to have Argis at his side. He would be angry that she had vanished but hopefully thinking she was with her parents would make him happy. Give him some peace of mind. She couldn't let her Thane and expert assassin meet his end on the battlefield. She was leaving because she loved him. Because she wanted to help him in whatever way she could. 

Another part of her admitted that she had one other reason for leaving. She didn't deserve someone like Fen. He was already so far above her, if he was to return as a war hero she would just be even less desirable to him as a long term partner. She was doing him a favor by setting him free to live his life with someone more worthy. He hadn't rejected her declaration of love, but neither had he returned the sentiment. 

She had been foolish these last few months, believing that a noble Thane would ever want a life with a lowly chef. She had convinced herself that his job as a Listener for the Dark Brotherhood meant he wouldn't be able to meet women in a more conventional way. His previous fiance and the girl in Riften were not in the picture, but there were still plenty of women in Skyrim who would love to marry a Thane. If the Stormcloaks were successful, as she desperately prayed they would be, Fen may find himself gifted new titles and accolades. He would have no trouble finding someone new. Someone better.

As for her, she was a lost cause. She had fallen so completely. No one would ever hold a candle to her memories of Fen, so handsome and caring. Powerful and gentle. Frightening and exciting. She had told him that she loved him, and he hadn't returned the sentiment. But that was fine. She would always love him, just not as she had dreamed.

Gianna wasn't upset when the skies darkened and rain began to fall on the open carriage she rode away from Markarth. The cool water on her face hid the tears and the rush of the wind masked the sound of her heart breaking.


	9. The Soldier

It had been over ten months since Gianna had arrived at the Dead Man's Drink in Falkreath. The previous serving girl, Narri, had recently married the mill owner and there was an opening for a cook and serving girl. Gianna took the position. It was strange how one kitchen was like another. There was always the gossip, the jockeying for favor and position, and the same tavern clients seemed to exist all over Skyrim. She was surprised how easily she settled back into a routine as a paid cook. She was allowed a room in the Inn for her services. She had brought with her the only possessions she considered hers in Fen's house: the books and journals he had given her. 

It was surprising how badly it hurt to think about Fen, even after all these months. Travelers took her for a friendly barmaid, but truly she was desperate for any information about the war between Ulfric and the Empire. She was longing to hear anything that could be about Fen. Gianna was disappointed again and again.

She heard the most about the Dragonborn. The hero had come out of semi-retirement to rally the Stormcloaks. It was said the man faced his old friend, Jarl Balgruuf, in single combat during the battle for Whiterun. The Dragonborn could tear down forts with only his voice. The Empire was running scared. Ulfric was leading from Windhelm, behind the safety of walls. The Dragonborn was at the head of every major battle, and the Stormcloaks were winning.

There was never any word about the Dark Brotherhood or the Thane of Markarth who was fighting for Ulfric. Sometimes Gianna woke up from nightmares. Nightmares where she found out Fen was dead and gone forever, Argis dead with him. 

She made some friends in Falkreath. She even received some attention from the local blacksmith. He was one of the few Nords in town who didn't look at her suspiciously because she was an Imperial. She could not return any of the man's affections though. Gianna started to wonder if she was forced to love Fen forever. 

She spent her spare time working on the Gourmet's recipe journal. It was more difficult without Fen's generous ingredient budget, but she scraped together what she could and worked when she had the time. The apothecary in town was always well stocked and happy to have the business.

There came the day when Imperial Soldiers started walking through, limping and reporting a great battle at Fort Neugrad. Everyone was either dead, captured, or limping just ahead of the charging Stormcloaks. They were on their way to Falkreath to make sure the Jarl was displaced and a supporter for their cause raised to the position. Gianna's heart was racing. Stormcloak soldiers were coming here. Maybe Fen would be among them. 

She walked out with Valga, an Imperial woman of similar appearance with her and the innkeeper at the Dead Man's Drink. Some had even claimed they looked like sisters, which pleased Valga. The pair moved over to the Jarl's longhouse and stood among the rabble there as the sound of horses beyond the gates grew louder. Soldiers in the Stormcloak blue began to arrive, walking straight for the Jarl's residence. Gianna found herself studying every face behind their helmets looking for a glimpse of auburn hair, dark eyes, or a familiar jaw. 

Suddenly, her mouth hung open in surprise as the Dragonborn walked through the city gates. He was larger than life in his dragon bone armor with his full face helmet and a full entourage of soldiers surrounding him. Gianna doubted he even needed the extra protection, judging by the wicked looking ebony waraxe at his side. The soldiers opened the doors to the longhouse and the Dragonborn entered. 

Gianna longed to be a fly on the wall inside the longhouse, but it wasn't hard to know what was happening. The walls seemed to rattle as the Dragonborn spoke with his thundering voice, getting the Jarl to surrender peacefully and leave for exile in Solitude. Dengeir, the previous Jarl, was to be reinstated. Gianna didn't care enough about Falkreath to care who was sitting in the Jarl's chair. 

Valga and Gianna walked back to the Inn where some soldiers were already starting to come in and demand drink and food. It was a welcome change of pace and it gave Gianna another chance to search for Fen. She almost felt nervous that he might happen upon her in a tavern like a common serving girl. It's possible he may not even recognize her. She was wearing some second hand barkeep clothing and bathing wasn't as easily available as it had been in Markarth. Her hair had grown slightly longer and Valga enjoyed braiding it on slow evenings. 

Gianna was a blur of activity as she raced about bringing bottles of mead and bowls of fresh stew to anyone showing coin. Soon all of the sitting and standing areas in the Drink were full of bodies and Valga was looking frazzled.

“Stormcloaks like their mead,” muttered Valga as she broke open another crate of mead she'd retrieved from the cellar. “At least their coin is good.”

“We can do this Valga. It's only one night and they will be on their way,” Gianna said smiling, though she felt just as exhausted and hopeless about the night. To make matters worse, the soldiers began to get handsy as the mead continued to flow. There was the occasional slap on the ass or grip on her shoulder that somehow slipped and pulled her dress down slightly. Gianna retreated into herself, growing more and more angry. On the next trip behind the bar, Gianna grabbed one of the kitchen knives she kept sharpened for her cooking. She slipped it into the belt of her outfit as she continued to serve the men.

There was a time when Gianna was young and she had observed this behavior in customers. The prettiest chefs had the hardest time. She hadn't been the first target usually. It never failed that after a few bottles of mead, even Gianna began looking good to the clients. There was touching and propositioning and the women just accepted it with a silent strength. It was part of their job. They couldn't turn on the customers or they would be out of a job. 

Gianna had followed the same line of thinking. It led her into an uncomfortable situation with her first mentor in Markarth. Her career hadn't blossomed in Solitude until she had finally stood up and closed herself off from even the most casual of flirting. She had sworn off all men and focused only on her work. 

Then she had met Fen. She had known love for a short period of time. He had told her that he was hers and she was already his long before that conversation. She would belong to him forever. The girl who would quietly roll her eyes at an unwanted proposition was gone. Gianna was a woman who wasn't about to accept anything without a fight. She had killed before, for Fen. She wasn't helpless.

A strange thought crept into her mind that she could visit the large graveyard in Falkreath, purchase some supplies from the apothecary, and then perform the Black Sacrament herself. That would put an end to any unwanted advances. She wondered if that would bring Fen to her. After ten months she was starting to think she might be capable of such a despicable act just to see him again. 

She continued to serve the men as the hour grew late. She ignored their laughs and comments, instead dreaming about Markarth. Maybe she could hire a carriage and go back just to watch Vlindrel and see if Fen was home. She wondered if the town was any different now under the Stormcloak banner. Having a Silver-Blood as the Jarl didn't sit well with Gianna, but if Fen was there she could overlook it. Maybe he had already had his fill of the war after he saw that it was going in Ulfric's favor and that the Dragonborn was proving to be an able leader. Now that Falkreath had fallen, there was only Solitude left to conquer. 

Except it had been ten months now. She might be stuck in love with him, but the man might have moved on to anything or anyone else. She had left, after all. He had told her he would come back and she had left. She thought she had a good reason, sending Argis to fight at his side and hopefully protecting him through the battles. Would Fen see it that way? A hand sliding down the front of her dress brought her out of her revelry. 

“Hands off,” she hissed at the drunken soldier. He looked young and blond and Nord. When she snapped at him, he didn't take it well. 

“Listen, you Imperial bitch. You can't talk to a true son of Skyrim like that,” he said, standing up. The atmosphere was immediately charged with all the soldiers drunk on mead and battle. Several others stood up with the blond soldier. The man towered over her and the men started to press in close, but Gianna didn't back down. He leaned closer, spitting on her face as he talked in a strained voice, “A Imperial slut like you should be honored that any of the fine soldiers here might like to dump a load in your worthless cunt.”

Gianna didn't remember pulling the knife, but it was at the man's throat for only a second before she was disarmed by someone unseen. Someone slapped her with the back of a gauntlet and her vision turned into a tiny spot of light surrounded by blackness. Her stomach lurched as she was dragged out of the Inn by a wave of hands. She could hear Valga shouting her name somewhere over the sea of shouting soldiers, but it seemed far away and she couldn't have responded. 

Outside of the Drink, Gianna found herself thrown off the porch and down the few wooden steps. She tried to push herself up but someone put a steel toed boot against her shoulder and dug in. She started to grunt and found that spittle and blood were flowing freely out of her mouth and onto the dirt. She had done a great job of protecting herself.

She recognized the laughing voice of the first soldier she had assaulted with the knife. “Drag her over near the building and prop her up. This Imperial whore is asking for it. Isn't that right?” He punctuated the question by grinding his heel into her shoulder. Gianna gave a broken cry but was out of energy to fight. 

A shout from down the road drew everyone's attention. The men from the Inn stood up a little taller as someone approached. “What is going on here?” asked a voice that was so familiar Gianna thought she might have dreamed it. She tried to lift her head and was pushed back down by the weight above her. 

“Just a mouthy bar wench deciding to bring out a knife against an armed soldier. Imperial bitch taking out some aggression. Probably a spy for the Empire.”

The new arrival walked closer and the soldier removed his boot. Gianna found herself looking up at Argis. His beard was much longer and he seemed very dirty. He was wearing some tribal design on his face that hadn't been there in Markarth, but Gianna was certain it was him. She gave a broken sob.

“Argis. Thank the gods,” she said, curling up on the ground as she cried in relief. 

“For the love of Talos! Gianna! What in Oblivion...” he reached down and gathered her in his impossibly strong arms. “Everyone, BACK TO CAMP. That's an ORDER.” The rabble immediately began to scramble as Argis carried Gianna back toward some tents set up outside of the town gate. “Ralof,” he called to a soldier standing near a large tent. “Get me the name of whoever laid hands on this woman back at that Inn. The Dragonborn was clear, no civilians are to be harassed or harmed during this war. He's going to want blood.”

Argis was careful when he finally set Gianna down on a bedroll inside of the large tent. It was empty save for a table with a wide map spread over the top and several blue flags dotting it. He went to a chest and was rummaging through for potions which he brought to Gianna and forced her to drink. It helped the pain and she could start to feel the soreness in her face and shoulder going. She reached a hand up and came away with blood. The backhanded slap had split her cheek open. 

“Fuck Gianna,” said Argis, settling onto the ground beside her. “What are you doing here?”

“I've been living here. Working at the Inn,” she said, quietly.

“I know you weren't in fucking Cyrodiil. Fen made me go there and look for you. Months before I realized you had given me completely false information. I didn't know what to make of that. Gods, he was pissed.”

“I was only trying to help...” she mewled.

“I know I was upset at being left behind, but that was not a reason for you to leave. You have no idea what you've done. The last ten months have been horrible,” said Argis.

“They weren't good for me either. I feel terrible about what happened. But Argis, is Fen...”

“He wanted to come back to you, Gianna. After the fighting, he wanted to return home and for you to be there. He was strange before he met you. He's...been through a lot. I think you were the reason he had to survive the battles. I didn't even want to tell him you were gone, I was afraid of what he might do. He's known for rash decisions.”

“Oh gods,” Gianna sobbed out, “So he is...”

“No. Though it's through some daedra's intervention I am sure. He fights like a man possessed. Always putting himself in unnecessary danger. I have asked him, no begged him, to stop. As his housecarl, I should die before him, and seeing him rush headfirst into death every single day has me...” Argis hung his head, bringing his hands up to massage his temples. “It doesn't matter how hard it's been for me. I just think about him. He thought you left. He stopped talking about coming home from this war.”

“Do you know where he is? Can you take me to him? Argis, I will do anything to make this right. We can't let Fen die. I need him to be alive. It's the whole reason I left...” she said.

“I just hope we aren't too late. He's riding at a break neck speed toward the next battle. Solitude. If it's the final battle, I fear he's been meaning to make it his final battle as well.”

Gianna caught the meaning behind the words. Fen had been on a suicide mission in the war and with the final battle coming it was possible he had planned not to come back, no matter the outcome. “We can go now, we can ride, we can catch him...” she said, her tone becoming frantic.

“He's on Shadowmere,” said Argis, bitterly.

The supernatural horse would outpace any horse. “What can we do,” asked Gianna, impotent tears falling down her dirty face. 

“We ride out with the troops tomorrow, for Solitude. I doubt he would storm the gates alone. Ulfric will be leading and I seriously doubt the Jarl would let any single soldier take on the headquarters of the Imperial Legion in Skyrim single handed. Though, Fen...”

At first light, the soldiers broke camp and began riding hard for Solitude. Argis was riding ahead, inspecting troops, and barking orders. Gianna found it odd that Fen's housecarl seemed to be some kind of leader in this army. She hadn't even heard him talk about being a Stormcloak, or serving in any wars. Then again, if Fen was a Stormcloak then his housecarl would be one too. Gianna was riding on a supply wagon. The group rode through the night only stopping periodically to water and feed the horses. The battle for Solitude was on the horizon.

Argis didn't let Gianna far out of his sight. The soldiers gave her a wide berth. Whatever Argis had said to warn them way from her, it had worked. No one would so much as talk to her and they seemed to fight over who had to bring her food during the rest stops. Gianna didn't mind. She was sore from the fight in Falkreath and preoccupied with worry for Fen.

Gianna couldn't help but feel hopeful at the thought of seeing Fen again. If Argis was leading her straight to him, that had to mean Fen still wanted to see her. Fen hadn't moved on. Fen was still hers and she needed to go and claim him. She would tell him she loved him and beg his forgiveness. They would go home to Vlindrel. They could still have their life together. She prayed it wasn't too late.

When they finally arrived in Solitude on the afternoon of the next day, the scene was chaotic. Stormcloak soldiers were everywhere and Argis stormed right up to the largest tent where the Stormcloak banner was flapping in the wind.

Gianna had never seen Ulfric Stormcloak, the leader of the rebellion, but he was a tall, broad Nord with dirty blond hair and a groomed beard. His eyes were gray-blue and stared down at a map. His clothing was regal but functional with his large fur cloak making him appear even larger than he was. He was arguing hotly with a man wearing a bear skin over his head. Argis entered the room and walked directly up to the table, slamming his gauntlets on the wood to get the their attention. It worked. Gianna stared with huge eyes at the balls of Argis to walk into this tent and behave this way.

“Where's Fen,” asked Argis.

“The Bulwark. You made it to the final battle. This Imperial is a friend of yours?” asked Ulfric, his voice deep and tinged with a hint of the thunder that Gianna only heard during the few times she had seen the Dragonborn speak. 

“I need to find Fen immediately. Where is he. Shouldn't he be here?” asked Argis, voice low and commanding. Gianna was looking back and forth between all of the large Nords in the room, confused why Ulfric and his commanders would know who Fen was at all, or why Argis had a right to barge into this war room and demand an audience.

Ulfric walked to the corner of the tent and retrieved a sword. He hefted it and flexed his hand around the handle several times. “You know where he is, Argis. It's where I am going right now as well. The front of this spear that is about to rip Solitude apart and remark her into a home for true Nords where the Aldmeri Dominion will no longer be welcome.”

“He's going to die Ulfric. He wants to die. You know it, I know it, let me get to him before you march,” said Argis, turning to walk quickly out of the tent.

“You best hurry, Bulwark,” said Ulfric as Gianna rushed from the tent to try to catch up with Argis.

“Argis! What should I do?” she called over the roar of men and clanging gear as the soldiers prepared for the battle. There was a strange energy in the air. A taste of metal, smoke, and blood. Gianna had never desired a soldier's life and she was afraid. Very afraid. 

“Stay back. Stay in Ulfric's tent. Wait for me. I am getting Fen and we will return to get you. If anything goes badly Gianna- if you see Imperial soldiers tearing apart the camps or hear that the Stormcloaks have fallen,” Argis stopped walking and looked at her, his blue eyes deadly serious, “Run. You run, Gianna.”


	10. The Legend

Argis began weaving through men and women wearing identical Stormcloak uniforms, donning their helmets and hefting their shields. She lost sight of him soon after that. Everyone seemed to be pressing forward, moving as one giant mass toward the gates of Solitude just up the road. Gianna stumbled and ran toward the ornate tent where Ulfric had been and found it empty. She cowered down into the tent and tried to remember to breathe. 

She heard a sound like breaking thunder followed by the screams of hundreds of soldiers from a distance. She kept crouched down in the tent for what seemed like hours before she heard voices outside of Ulfric's tent. She ventured a frightened look outside of the tent and saw wagons approaching another tent nearby. Robed figures appeared and began unloading the hurt and injured, moving them toward the tent.

Gianna rushed over to help. She wasn't strong enough to carry the armored soldiers, but she brought potions to the wounded and ladled water into their mouths. As soon as the injured were treated, another wagon was already approaching. Some of the men were already dead or suffering from wounds so great no small potions could cure their ills. One of the robed priests knew restoration magic and was helping, but in between casting he was weak and helpless. Gianna scanned every face that she treated, searching for Fen or Argis, but saw no one familiar. 

After hours of tending to the sick, she glanced at Solitude and saw smoke rising from the city. Fear gripped her heart and she refused to give into the feeling. Instead she pushed through, helping the sick and dying. Assisting the priests. She lost track of time but suddenly everyone paused in their work as a large cry went up from the soldiers. Some of them were coming out of the city. Everyone was cheering. A weak cry came from the wounded in the tent. The Stormcloaks had won the city. Solitude had fallen. 

The first soldiers to make it back spoke of Uflric and the Dragonborn, shouting through the Imperial forces like a tidal wave of destruction. They said that Elisif had pledged her allegiance to Ulfric and the Jarl had General Tullius in custody. The war was over and only a moot was keeping Ulfric Stormcloak from being named High King immediately. 

Gianna found it difficult to be excited for the news. If the battle was over, and Argis hadn't found Fen in time, she could be tending to his dead body in the next wagon. The fear paralyzed her heart and she refused to think about it. A galloping horse through the deserted camp made Gianna exit the sick tent in time to see Argis dismount and run into Ulfric's tent. 

“Argis!” she called out, rushing to the tent. He caught her by the arm as he exited the tent.

“Behind me Gianna. Now.” Argis was tense as he mounted the horse and held his arm for Gianna. She hopped on the back and they were immediately galloping toward Solitude. The gates were broken wide open and Stormcloaks were everywhere, cheering and rounding up Imperial soldiers. The large tower over the main city well had fallen and several shattered barricades littered the city. Argis dismounted and led her by the hand through the soldiers, bodies, and broken debris of war. They walked up a small staircase and Argis beat on the door to a residence.

“JORDIS,” he howled against the door, pounding again. It opened shortly and an armored Nord woman with long blond hair and a fresh, young face greeted them. Her expression was dire. “Where is he?” demanded Argis.

“Upstairs,” said the woman, Jordis. “He's not responding well. I'm not sure he can even hear...”

Argis pulled Gianna through the door and drug her up the stairs. They passed a large table and into a spacious bedroom. What was this place? She saw on the table as they passed the familiar armor she had seen only twice before- an armor made of the bones of Dragons. 

“The Dragonborn is here?” asked Gianna, though Argis ignored her as he walked to the side of the bed. 

Fen. There was Fen laying on the bed over the blankets. His entire torso was bandaged and his forehead gleamed with sweat. There were several potions on the side of the bed. 

“Why isn't he taking them?” asked Argis through teeth grinding together in frustration. “Send for a healer?”

“I have Argis, everyone is busy. The cost of life has been very great,” said Jordis, her voice defensive. “It's his fucking fault. He told the healers not to come here. He said he didn't need them. He told some bullshit story about dragon blood keeping him safe. You know he just didn't want to..”

“Fen,” said Argis, slapping a rough hand against the man's pale face. “FEN,” he shouted, louder this time. “Fennrick you wake up right now you dumb asshole. DRINK.”

“Argis, please,” shrieked Jordis. “You aren't helping.”

“Fen,” said Gianna, finding her voice. She walked to the other side of the bed and crawled softly onto the mattress next to her beloved. “Fen,” she whispered again, taking his face in her hands. There was a hitch in his breathing and he struggled through swollen bruises on his face to open his eyes. 

“Little chef...”

“I'm here Fen,” she said, tears falling now. “Don't die Fen. You need to drink some potions. Why did you send the healers away Fen? I need you to live. I love you. Don't leave me...again.”

“You,” he croaked, his voice sounded raw and faint, “you...left me.” He wheezed unhealthily, his eyes seeming unfocused. “Not real. You're not real.”

She kissed him, softly and gently against his lips, afraid to do anything more with him in such bad shape. A tear landed on his cheek as she hovered over him. “Drink, Fen,” she coaxed as Argis held out another bottle. This time, he made a giant effort and some of the liquid managed to make it into his mouth. Gianna kissed him again, ensuring the potion would stay in his mouth, urging him with her lips to swallow. After the first gulp, the rest went down easier and easier until he was breathing better and drifting off into a more peaceful slumber. 

The exhaustion of the road, the battle, the healing tent, and the shock of finding Fen finally caught up to Gianna as she laid next to Fen and fell asleep, her hand resting against his chest. She needed to feel him breathing, feel his heart beating, so she could sleep soundly. 

The next morning, Fen was still sleeping when Gianna awoke. She lay there for several minutes, watching him sleep. His auburn beard was long and wild and his face was thin and ragged but it was Fen. Her Fen. She quietly slid off the bed and tiptoed down stairs to the kitchen. 

She walked in on Jordis heaping some congealed mess into a bowl. Gianna realized it was some disgusting mockery of oat breakfast and she glared daggers at the woman. “What are you doing?” she asked. 

“Cooking breakfast,” said Jordis brightly.

“No,” said Gianna, plainly. “No you fucking are not. Get out. And for the love of Talos, do not ever serve that to any living creature.”

The young woman seemed horrified but she backed slowly out of the kitchen. Gianna didn't want to worry about Fen or the conversation they needed to have once he was awake. She just wanted to cook. She busied herself making a breakfast that could have probably fed half the Stormcloak army outside. 

She was busy dishing out heaps of seasoned eggs, beef sausage, buttered toast and roasted potato wedges when Argis walked into the room. He walked straight to Gianna, picked her up, and spun her around. She gave a frightened squawk but was smiling at the housecarl. “By the gods, I missed you Gianna,” said Argis, looking lustily at the food. “It has been a long many months of shitty, shitty cooking.”

Gianna was laughing and scooping out a plate for Jordis, who still seemed a little afraid after Gianna had chased her from the kitchen earlier. 

“By the Nine,” breathed Jordis as she took a bite of the breakfast concoction. 

“Told 'ya,” said Argis with a mouthful of eggs. Gianna just chuckled. She was working over a simmering pot where she was cooking a light breakfast gruel she could feed to Fen in case he would have any trouble eating solid food. The word from Solitude was that Ulfric would be giving a speech today before beheading General Tullius in front of the troops. There was a loud knock at the door, interrupting their discussions. 

Jordis opened the door and stuttered, “My...my...my Jarl?”

Ulfric Stormcloak walked into the entry way, followed by the bear skin wearing man Gianna had seen the previous day in the war tent. “Where's the Dragonborn?”

“Upstairs,” said Argis, still shoveling eggs in his mouth. “He's stable. Still sleeping.”

Gianna's eyes drifted and she couldn't even hear what the housecarls and Ulfric were discussing. Gianna was too busy thinking about Fen. She had thought she was unworthy when he was Fen, Thane of Markarth and a Dark Brotherhood Assassin by night. Fen the Dragonborn. Fen the hero. The most important man in Skyrim had wanted to end his life if he couldn't be with her. How was that even possible?

Ulfric began walking up the stairs with Argis and Jordis hot on his heels. Gianna hung back in the kitchen. She wasn't important enough to hear what the Dragonborn had to say to Ulfric Stormcloak. She had to remind herself that the Dragonborn was Fen. Her Fen. 

The thin breakfast gruel she was cooking for Fen was bubbling away over the fire. Gianna dished out a single helping in case Fen was hungry after his discussion with Ulfric. She sat by the fire, stirring the rest of the gruel with a small smile on her face. When she had met Fen, he had been the Dragonborn and a Dark Brotherhood Assassin and a Thane and she hadn't even known. But she had loved him. She would love him forever, no matter what happened here. Once she accepted the truth, she wasn't even unhappy or uncomfortable anymore. She loved Fen. Nothing else mattered.

Ulfric Stormcloak came storming down the stairs joined by his housecarl with the bear skin covering. They departed in a dignified huff. Gianna was watching the door confused when Jordis and Argis walked down stairs and into the kitchen. “He only wants you Gianna. You should go up now,” said Argis.

Gianna brought the bowl she had scooped out and a large spoon as she walked up the stairs to the master bedroom in the house. She walked into the room and saw Fen sitting up in bed, his auburn hair a mess having gotten so much longer. His beard was longer than she'd seen and unkempt. But his dark brown eyes lit up with a soft inner light when she entered the room. She set the bowl down on the night stand and touched a warm hand to Fen's cheek.

“Fen,” she breathed. She couldn't stop the relieved smile that he was alive. Smiling because he was here and she was touching him. “I missed you so much.”

“Gia...why did you leave,” he asked, his hand reaching up to hold hers against his cheek. 

“Argis wanted to protect you. I couldn't let you fight a war unprotected,” she said, plainly.

Fen chuckled, bringing her hand to his lips. He kissed her hand lightly before continuing, “I have other housecarls. And I am not exactly helpless.”

“Well, I know that. Now,” said Gianna. She was still smiling. She could barely accept that she was here with her beloved right now. “You never told me, Fennrick,” she said the name she had heard Argis say and watched Fen wince slightly.

“Gia, I need to tell you something important,” said Fen, sitting up still holding her hand.

“You're the Dragonborn. I figured that out already,” she said, giving a shy smile.

“That wasn't it, little chef,” he said, grinning. He looked paler than when she'd last seen him, and scruffier, but otherwise he was the same. “I love you, Gia. I should have told you before I left.”

“Fen,” said Gianna,looking into those dark brown eyes. “Are you still,” she took a deep breath, pausing to lick her lips, “mine?”

“Always,” said Fen, and he pulled her hands until she leaned into him and their lips met. They kissed, for the first time in months, and Gianna felt all of the emotions as though she had never left for Falkreath and he had never left for the war. 

“Why didn't you tell me,” she asked, pressing her head into his neck and snuggling up against her beloved. 

“I tried. When we first met, you thought I was the Gourmet, but I didn't lie when I told you I wanted to stop hiding. I thought the Dark Brotherhood would be the hardest part for you to accept,” he said, looking into her eyes. “When you accepted me despite the murders, I knew you were special. But you had such an issue with me being a Thane of Markarth. I thought, if you knew I was the Dragonborn, you would run. I didn't want you to run.”

“I still want to run. A little,” admitted Gianna. Fen squeezed her hand when she made that admission. 

“Why,” he asked, bringing her hand against his chest. He looked at her, and Gianna no longer wanted to hide anything from him.

“Because you're a hero. Everyone in Skyrim knows your deeds. And for all you have done, all you have given,” she said, leaning closer to him on the bed. “You deserve much better.”

“Gia...” he started, but she interrupted.

“No. Fen, you do deserve better. I'm,” her voice broke and she broke eye contact. “I am no one.”

“Why do you say that...” Fen asked, defensively.

“Because you could have anyone,” she said. “And you deserve someone as amazing as you.”

“But I only want you. You are amazing,” said Fen, pulling her hand and urging her closer. “I told you, months ago. I'm yours.”

“No. I won't let you settle for...”

“Gianna. I told you about my past relationships. My very first housecarl. I loved her but she died, while we were fighting in Blackreach. It,” he paused, making a loud sigh before continuing, “it wasn't an easy death. We had been engaged. I mourned for...so long. I thought I was done with love until I met Mjoll.”

“Your girl from Riften?” asked Gianna, trying to keep the heartache out of her voice. 

“Yes. She is a wonderful woman. A fierce warrior. I still consider her a friend. She found happiness with a man. He wasn't a warrior or a powerful figure. He was just a man. Aerin.”

Gianna's brow creased, confused. Fen was still holding her hand and speaking softly. 

“Some might think he's not as worthy as Mjoll. That he isn't a warrior. Isn't as strong as she is. But all I ever saw in him, was a man who made Mjoll happy. I never could. She found someone who could make her happy.”

There was a pause when they both stared at one another. Gianna was frowning. 

“I looked, Gia,” said Fen, his tone serious. “I did look. And the only person who made me feel again; the only person who made me smile and made me happy. You.”

“You said you were mine, but then you went to die in a war...”

“I didn't want to come home to an empty house. Without you, there was nothing waiting for me except responsibility and more people forcing me to hide behind different identities. I don't wanna be the Listener, the Dragonborn, the Thane. I just wanted to be Fen.”

“I love you Fen,” she said, her face feeling hot from absorbing all he had said. “What happened with Ulfric?”

Fen gave a humorless chuckle and attempted to sit up in the bed, wincing slightly. “He wants the Dragonborn to make General Tullius a head shorter. He thinks it will make for a better song once this war is all said and done.”

The thought of Fen beheading someone made her stomach twist uncomfortably. “I told him no. I am done fighting for Ulfric. I believe in his cause, and he will make a fine High King, but he doesn't need me anymore.” He gave a warm smile, reaching up to gently caress Gianna's cheek. “There's only one role I want to focus on right now. I promised you, I would get you set up doing whatever you wanted. I mean to put all my energy into that for as long as I am able.”

“Are you retiring from your other positions as well?” asked Gianna, holding his hand to her cheek and nuzzling against it.

“You can't retire from the Dark Brotherhood. I wouldn't want to. Being Dragonborn comes with a few nasty side effects. Mainly, that I have the soul of a dragon and it behaves like a dragon. It's my nature. I need to dominate and destroy. Killing for the Night Mother is the way I am choosing to exercise that part of my nature. Plus,” he said giving that lopsided grin she adored, “It's fun.”

She laughed, shrugging her shoulders. “I suppose loving every part of you explains why I find your affinity for murder cute.” She moved her hand to push some of his long dirty auburn hair away from his face. “You were at my trial.”

“Aye. I couldn't believe they found you guilty. Group of assholes...” he muttered darkly.

“But you're the Thane of Solitude? You could have pulled some strings, as the Dragonborn, and had me released?” she asked.

“Oh, because that's just as fun as breaking you out of prison in the middle of the night,” he said, sarcastically. 

“You're incorrigible,” she groaned, causing him to laugh. It was so nice to hear him laughing again. She had missed the sound so much. “You should have broken me out sooner. I was in there for over a week. There were fleas!”

“I walked out of that luncheon, and right into an ambush. I fought my way out and ran straight to the Brotherhood, only to find it in flames. I almost burned alive, but Mother saved me. I had to get her to a new sanctuary, bury my dead family members, and then get back to the contact who was paying for the Emperor's death. I took a break before meeting him though, so I could break you out of prison and get you safely into hiding.

“I chose Markarth because Argis is my most loyal and trusted housecarl. It's also the house where I spend the most time. Like I said, stone doesn't burn. I worry sometimes that maybe my Shouting fire could reduce a city to ashes before I even realized what I was doing.

“You know most of everything else. From now on, I will be as honest and open with you as I am with any of my housecarls. I want you to trust me. I know that will be hard. And even if you struggle with it, I will be patient. But I hope you don't ever doubt that I am hopelessly, truly, deeply in love with you. I'm yours, Gia.”

“And I'm yours, Fen,” she said, leaning down to kiss him. “So tell me the story about the Dragonborn and Alduin..”

There was so much time now and no more secrets between them. There was finally time to work on their relationship and build a life together. Gianna was excited for the future, but also excited to finally learn about the past. She could hear the greatest legends in recent history straight from the dragon's mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a short epilogue coming to wrap it up.


	11. The Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist making a short and cute epilogue.

Gianna squinted as she painstakingly arranged tiny snowberries on top of each of each tart along with a perfect dollop of fresh whipped cream. She was almost finished with the last dozen when she spied movement out of the corner of her eye. 

“Argis,” she snapped. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Uhhh...taste testing. Making sure these aren't poisoned,” said the large blond housecarl. Gianna glared at him, not knowing if he knew about the poisoned tarts she had made once upon a time. She grabbed a wooden spoon and pointed it at the door to the kitchen. 

“Out. Now,” she snapped. The housecarl was dressed in his nicest tunic and pants for the event, but he still had his large greatsword strapped to his back. “And Argis? I want the balls of anyone else trying to sneak in here before I am done.”

“But what if it's a woman?” he asked.

Her only answer was lowering her eyelids just a fraction more. The man quickly vacated the kitchen. Once again she found herself alone in the kitchen of the Blue Palace where she was finishing up the last of the personal apple and cheese tarts she was making for the wedding reception.

The ceremony that morning had been very formal. Gianna was excited to have been asked to prepare the royal feast for the evening. The first course had been a beautiful mudcrab and slaughter fish chowder, followed by enough roasts to feed the Stormcloak army. Gianna had hand crafted the seasoning herself, using her own special blend of herbs and spices with a pinch of void salts. Gianna was almost done with the service, except for the desserts. 

“It smells fantastic in here,” said a familiar voice, making Gianna pause in her decorating of the last tarts. 

“I told Argis to take the balls of the next person who walked in...” she warned.

“Good thing Argis didn't see me come in here, then,” said Fen, walking close behind Gianna and wrapping his strong arms around her waist. “They are still giving speeches, my love. You have time. There's a line of people waiting actually, I would say you have plenty of time. Well, we have plenty of time...”

His large hands started to wander up from her waist, grasping at her breasts through her chef's outfit. Fen started to pull down the top of her bodice and Gianna tried to twist out of his grasp. “They are waiting on these pastries! It's the grand finale of my dinner service,” she whined, though her body was already responding to his touch.

The tables were covered with finished pastries, leaving the room smelling of apples and spices. “I take it your business was successful?”

“It was a good death,” he breathed against her neck before kissing along her jaw and down to her shoulder. “I was a little distracted though, thinking of you in here cooking apple tarts. You know they're my favorite.”

“Not the bread pudding?” she asked, turning around to give him a sly smile. Fen's hair was cut shorter now, though it still fell wild and unkempt. He had shaved recently but auburn stubble was already present on his face. Fen was wearing a nice woolen tunic with an amulet of Talos hanging in the middle of his chest. He had on his nicest leather pants and boots, looking every bit the proper Thane for the wedding. Gianna suddenly felt very under dressed in her white chef's outfit.

“I have many favorites,” he grinned, moving his hands up her sides, lightly caressing the top of her breasts left visible by her bodice. “None of them compare to the taste of you Gia.”

“Fen,” she shushed, looking paranoid around the room. “This really isn't the...”

She was silenced by a kiss. His lips were claiming hers, forceful and demanding. His deft fingers untied her bodice and slid beneath the fabric as it fell open allowing access to her breasts. He was fondling her, kissing her, pressing a knee forward to grind between her legs.

“These tarts aren't going to finish themselves...” she said, though her voice was breathy and soft as her body betrayed her desire for Fen. He grabbed one of her hands and moved it to his pants where a growing bulge brushed against her fingers.

“This won't finish itself either,” he grinned, causing her to groan at the bad joke. “I can be quick,” he said, his fingers returning to her sensitive nipples, teasing them to peaks. “You may not want me to be once we get started though...”

She kissed him then, no longer denying the liquid heat she could feel between her thighs. She could never get enough of kissing Fen, feeling the swell of his muscles under his fine clothes, and grinding her hips against his to feel his erection straining against leather pants. He quickly shed the over coat until he was wearing only his under shirt. Then he untied the ties on his leather pants. She was watching his hands work, licking her lips, concentrating on the object of her desire.

“See something you like Gia,” he practically growled the question, making a show of slowly freeing his hardness from its confinement. Gianna bit her lip to stop a loud moan from escaping. It half way worked. Soon they were kissing again with a new desperation. Her fingers wrapped around his length and began to stroke him from base to tip, feeling the first beads of leaking fluid. Fen moaned loudly into her mouth. 

He roughly turned her around and lifted her skirt in one fluid movement. He pulled her small clothes down and pushed her forward until her hands were on the table. She was careful not to hit any of the pastries, though her addled mind no longer cared about that. All she could focus on was the hot need Fen stoked within her and the burning desire to feel him deep inside of her.

“I want it, Fen. Please,” she moaned, looking back over her shoulder. Fen was staring intently at her exposed sex. He lightly ran his fingers over her outer lips, feeling the moisture already coating her nether lips. He brought a finger to his lips, tasting her. She moaned just watching him. He met her eyes and gave a small smirk before moving his manhood to her dripping entrance. With one quick thrust he was inside of her, the force of it causing her to lurch forward knock one of the tarts to the ground.

Gianna didn't care about the tart. She closed her eyes, focusing only on the rough, hard in and out movement of her lover. Fen's hips met hers with a wet slapping sound, drawing out a loud string of moans from Gianna. 

“You always feel so good, Gia...” he groaned, fingers digging into her hips as he rutted insistently against her from behind. He moved his hands to palm her ass, squeezing and admiring. Fen bent over to slide his hand to the spot that drove her mad with lust. Her back was arched and he could tell her eyes were closed. The expression on her face was one of pure ecstasy and it never failed to excite him watching her come undone because of him. 

He held nothing back as he drove into his beloved, feeling his impending climax approaching with each thrust. She was groaning now, the way he loved. He slammed into her harder, deeper, until he felt her walls tighten and her legs seem to shudder underneath her. The ragged cry she let out as she came had him spilling inside of her warmth, thrusting through the last spurts. He reached forward, pulling her upright against his chest, feeling himself slide out of her. He kissed her sex warmed cheek and whispered hotly against her ear, “I love you, wife.”

She turned to kiss him, letting her skirts fall back down as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned into him. “I love you too, husband. Forever.”

The wedding guests had finally stopped their speeches for the wedding between Ulfric Stormcloak and Jarl Elisif the Fair. Everyone knew that Elisif was less than pleased about being married to the man who had slain her first husband, but Fen had helped convince her this was best for Skyrim. He had also delivered a message from her husband that Fen had received, in Sovngarde. Sometimes it was difficult to accept that her sexy Fen was the legendary Dragonborn. 

Elisif was dressed beautifully in a fine wedding gown of white with slashes of Stormcloak blue. She smiled happily as dessert was finally served. Fen and Gianna had taken their places at the table with the High King and his bride. 

“These are amazing, Gianna! We are so lucky to have the most famous chef in Skyrim cooking for our wedding,” said Elisif. Even if she wasn't excited to be marrying Ulfric, she was still regal and polite. Gianna blushed at the compliment, but also at the suggestive grin Fen was giving her. 

“I am pleased you like them, Lady Elisif,” said Gianna, formally.

“You will have to sign my copy of your book,” said Elisif, giving a sincere smile. “I don't think anyone in the province hasn't bought a copy at this point.”

Over the last year, Gianna had become more than just Fen's wife. She was also a published author of the best selling Skyrim cook book, A Taste of Skyrim. She had used some of the Gourmet's recipes that she had adjusted, but for the most part, it was her own original recipes. Possibly being the wife of the legendary Dragonborn had helped get the publishing deal and spurred the popularity of the book, but the continued use in kitchens across the province indicated that the book was a success. Gianna couldn't have been happier. 

“I'm honored you enjoyed the recipes,” said Gianna. 

“I still wish she'd gone with my title suggestion,” said Fen, digging into his own apple tart. 

“No one would buy a cook book titled How to Feed Your Dragon,” said Gianna, giving a flat stare to her husband. 

“I would,” he said, smiling with a bit of apple on his scruffy face. Gianna picked it off and ate it, grinning at him all the while. Then they were kissing. Until the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat brought them back to the moment. 

“How is the house coming?” asked Galmar, the bear skin wearing housecarl of Ulfric Stormcloak that Gianna had first seen at the battle for Solitude. 

“It would have been finished months ago, if not for my lovely wife,” said Fen, grinning at Gianna. 

“The kitchen wasn't big enough,” she pouted, drawing out laughter from her husband.

“Don't worry. Next time the kitchen will be twice as large. There will be two ovens and enough storage for an entire army. I promise,” said Fen once he regained his composure. 

“What is next for you then, Dragonborn?” asked Ulfric, sitting tall and regal at the table. The war may have been won a year ago, but the fighting had not stopped and there was still the Aldmeri Dominion to defend against. 

Fen pulled away from his wife long enough to give a the High King a roguish grin. “There is nothing in this plane or another that could make me happier than I with my life right now.” He reached under the table to find Gianna's hand and gave it a firm squeeze. She smiled lovingly at her husband.

“Love you Gia,” he whispered softly into her ear. 

Everyone at the wedding thought they knew the Dragonborn. Gianna knew that she was the only one who truly knew the Dragonborn. And she would love him, unconditionally, forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my first story and I am happy with how it turned out. Thanks for everyone that took time to read and comment. Hope to be sharing more stories soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Gianna isn't that attractive in the base game, but I like to picture her more plain than unattractive for the sake of this story.


End file.
